


How The World Turns

by SlimeQueen



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Consensual Underage Sex, First Crush, Growing Up, Happy Ending, Jaehyun is a sweetheart, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, NO mpreg bc i dont fw that, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Switching, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-02-28 08:12:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13267338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlimeQueen/pseuds/SlimeQueen
Summary: Taeyong’s been resisting falling for a stupid Alpha like Jung Jaehyun with his stupid crinkly eyes and dimpled smile for his whole life. The laws of the universe don’t bend for him.Or, Taeyong and Jaehyun grow up together and fall in love.Translations:FrenchVietnamese





	1. Ten

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to the slowest burn ever lmao  
> Please don't steal or post my work anywhere else without my permission! Thank you!

Lee Taeyong is born to a Beta mother with a tired smile and a distant Alpha father with cold eyes.

In a family that follows the social caste system sedulously, Taeyong is named an Omega on his third day of life and his father storms out angrily, demanding a retest and then bitterly admitting defeat when the blood test concludes that yes, the supposed heir to his company is not only an Omega, but a male Omega.

Taeyong grows up in a big lonely house, filled with dark corners and shadowy rooms he’s not allowed into. For the most part, his parents let him be, leaving the maid to raise their son while they do business.

Taeyong grows, but so does the company, and there’s an infinite number of things for them to do, so Taeyong is left to his own devices for most of his childhood, entertaining himself by struggling through the books in the dusty library and roaming the woods behind the house, finding stray cats that accidentally wander past the gate and laying in the grass under the shade of the big willow tree at the end of the property when it’s sunny.

The first thing he learns about life is that he’s lower than Alphas. Society deems Omegas as the bottom of the scale, his father views Omegas as the bottom of the scale, and so Taeyong views himself as the bottom of the scale.

Female Omegas, as well as female Betas are fertile. Male Omegas, however, are, as it says in many of the heavy dusty books he’s looked at, genetic dead ends. The same processes happen, but with no viable results.

Taeyong is virtually useless.

The second thing he learns is that Alphas do not treat Omegas with respect. He’s walking down the dirty city streets, hand tight in his mother’s as they make their way down another block to the boutique they’re looking for when he trips and falls, landing right on his knees. He’s five, separated from his mother and in the middle of the sidewalk, eyes pooling over with confused frightened tears, and no one stops to help.

In fact, some people shoot him looks when they spot him wailing on the ground, staring like he's less than them. It’s the first time in his life Taeyong feels ashamed of his societal ranking.

Eventually, his mother does find him and disapprovingly clicks her tongue at his scraped knees and tears, but buys him an ice cream on the way home with a secret smile and a promise that _we’re not going to tell your father, are we Taeyongie?_

And Taeyong’s known since then that the world does not value Omegas, no matter how much the informational books in the library say that every ranking is important to society.

Another thing the book in the library talks about is something much more frightening—soulmates.

The soulmate principle in equal parts terrifies and excites Taeyong. On one hand, he’s always wanted to know what kind of person he’s supposed to be with, when he’ll find the person, how old he’ll be when they meet. On the other hand, he knows how controlling Alphas are, how scary their voices get when they’re angry (and he’s seen his father get angry far too many times not to be scared), and apprehension overwhelms him.

The idea itself is very simple—a person made solely for you, who you will find by chance, or, in statistically probable cases, not at all. There are romance novels Taeyong’s mother likes to read, stories of people finding their soulmates, of perfect Alpha and Omega couples who fall in love the second their eyes meet.

Betas are lucky, Taeyong secretly thinks, because they don’t have their fate drawn out for them. With the majority of the population being Beta, soulmates are fairly rare. Taeyong’s sister is a Beta, and she’s never had to worry about it. Taeyong, however, has stayed up many nights thinking about the Alpha somewhere out in the world who’s supposed to be his.

Taeyong can’t imagine falling in love with an Alpha, especially not at first sight.

-

The first time Taeyong meets his soulmate, he’s ten years old and on the playground at school.

He’s running around when he accidentally makes eye contact with the boy. The last thing he expects is for his knees to buckle when he’s on his way to the swing set, bashing them on the hard pavement as he falls. He cries out at the sharp ache which draws the attention of everyone in the vicinity, and then there’s a crowd gathered around him.

Taeyong isn’t focused on that though—he’s more interested in the weird tugging feeling in his chest, pulling him towards the boy that had been the cause of his fall.

He’s standing off to the side, staring curiously like he doesn’t know why Taeyong chose to just collapse the second their eyes met—as if he had a choice, his legs had given forcibly—and Taeyong squints up at him. “This is your fault,” is the first thing he ever says to his soulmate.

The Alpha’s smiling face drops at the words, looking appropriately confused and affronted. “Wh—“ He starts to say, but then there’s a teacher at the scene.

Taeyong knows what this is, even at his age. He’s seen it happen before, Omegas collapsing at times, others fainting, others not being affected outwardly but simply _knowing_. His mother had explained it to him a long time ago, but she’d told him he’d find his Alpha when he was ready, not unprepared with scratched up bloody knees on a playground, tears in his eyes from how bad it stings.

“Come on, you two,” the teacher is saying, gesturing towards the building in the general direction of the office, “You should have a conversation with the counselor.”

But Taeyong doesn’t _want_ to have a conversation with the counselor. He just wants some bandages, maybe to call his mom and wail over the receiver for her to come get him.

The boy steps forward then, holding an arm out to help Taeyong up. “I’m Jaehyun,” he says, smiling brightly.

Taeyong stands by himself, resentful when his knees ache. He ignores the troubled expression on Jaehyun’s face when he rejects the hand. He wonders why Jaehyun is not on his knees.

He sulks all the way over to the counselor’s office, sinking into the seat in front of her desk, sullen even when she excitedly attempts to explain what happens when Alphas or Omegas find their soulmates. She’s enthusiastic, exclaiming about how hard it is to find your match sometimes and how they should be lucky they’d found each other so early. The whole time, Taeyong wonders when school is going to end so he can go home.

“Of course we need to call your parents,” the counselor says, sending Taeyong spinning out of his stupor.

“Call my mother,” he interjects quickly, “My dad’s on a business trip so he won’t pick up.”

It’s easier than the truth at least—Taeyong’s father is much too busy to be bothered about trivial matters like this. Jaehyun turns to him curiously. He must feel the nervousness swirling around inside him when he talks about his father. Taeyong swallows and continues. “I don’t think we have to call my parents at all. It’s not like this is important, is it?”

The counselor coughs into her fist, surprised. “Of course it’s important, you two are going to spend your lives together! You could be married one day!”

Taeyong turns to Jaehyun, getting his first good look. He snorts. “I doubt it.” There’s no way he’s marrying someone with a stupid grin and that dumb earnest expression on his face.

Jaehyun, whose face had been falling steadily at every cruel remark Taeyong has been making, looks close to tears now, and Taeyong wants to ask, “ _What kind of Alpha cries so easily?_ ” just to see if it will push him over the edge.

Instead, he settles back into the chair and glares at the counselor, arms crossed stubbornly in front of his body. After a rather intense stare down, the counselor finally sighs. “I’ll call your mother,” she relents, “But you two should be happy about this—it’s the beginning of your lives!”

Taeyong scowls. He’s already living, thank you very much, and he doesn’t need some Alpha around to tell him what to do.

Still, a half hour later his mother is walking into the school office, clicking around in her tall high heels, meticulous as usual. Taeyong doesn’t feel nervous, but there’s the echo of trepidation fluttering in the pit of his stomach—it’s Jaehyun, he realizes, he’s feeling what Jaehyun feels.

There’s something connecting them, invisible but surely there. A string, wound around Taeyong’s being to Jaehyun’s, stretched taut as if willing them closer to each other. Taeyong wonders what would happen if he tugs on it, pulled until it snaps.

Something about the way Jaehyun looks at him makes him think that he’d enjoy watching the despair on the other’s face very much.

Taeyong’s mother gives him one exasperated look like _what did you do this time_ , then he’s being sent out along with Jaehyun, who drags his beat-up shoes against the ugly green carpet. The waiting room is all claustrophobia-inducing off-white walls and outdated magazines, and there’s absolutely nothing to look at except for Jaehyun sitting across from him, swinging his lanky legs idly as he stares down at his hands, which stay knotted together in his lap.

He doesn’t look very _Alpha_ as far as Taeyong is concerned—he hasn’t looked up from his thighs in the past ten minutes and his lower lip is trembling.

Taeyong is petty. He walks across the carpet and drops into the chair next to Jaehyun and then asks in his haughtiest voice, “What kind of Alpha cries in front of their Omega?”

Jaehyun looks up, blinks rapidly and twists his fingers into the hem of his shirt. “I’m not crying.” He lies but his flushed face gives him away, and Taeyong is feeling particularly vicious right now so he hums goadingly.

Jaehyun opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, his eyes focus on someone behind’s Taeyong’s shoulder and he lights up. “Mom!” he exclaims as a lady walks in. She’s the exact opposite of Taeyong’s mother’s short styled hair and neat suit, dressed in sweatpants and a worn shirt, her hair thrown up in a casual bun, glasses perched haphazardly on the bridge of her nose. When she smiles at her son, Taeyong sees the wrinkles around her eyes.

He keeps his eyes down as Jaehyun fills her in but graciously leaves out the part where Taeyong keeps sending him dark thoughts and pushing away any attempt at contact.

When Jaehyun’s mother kneels in front of his chair and grins at Taeyong, he doesn’t know what to do except flush and extend a hand out for her to take. Instead, she surprises him by pulling him into a tight hug and warmly saying, “It’s so nice to meet you, Taeyong. I’m so happy you and Jaehyunnie found each other already.”

Taeyong forces out a smile and murmurs his thanks, all the while wondering if the adults are ever going to realize he doesn’t even _know_ Jaehyun, much less want to marry him.

Jaehyun’s mother disappears into the office as well and Taeyong reverts back to silence, ignoring Jaehyun’s hurt that manages to reach him even when he tries to shut the elder out.

After a couple seconds, Taeyong looks through his eyelashes, trying to figure the Alpha out. Jung Jaehyun is slight, dressed in the same uniform as him, but Taeyong’s is in much better condition, un-creased and meticulous while Jaehyun’s tie is done casual and loose, his appearance disorderly. His hair hangs unruly and longish, bangs slipping into his eyes. He’s small, scrawny for an Alpha.

He’s unimpressed, to say the least.

A while later, Jaehyun’s mother peeks her head through the door of the office and tells them both to come back in.

Back in the counselor’s office, Taeyong tolerates more talk of plans for the future before he reaches his limit and wonders aloud, “How come everyone’s assuming I’m going to spend my life with him?”

The pained look his mother shoots him could freeze over oceans, but the counselor gives an empty airy laugh and says, “How could you not? You’re soulmates.”

“But-“

“That’s enough, Taeyong.” His mother says tightly.

Taeyong drops it.

-

At dinner that night, Taeyong’s mother excitedly recounts the incident to his father and sister. His sister, a Beta, sighs and wishes aloud for a soulmate. His father just stares in calculative way and asks if Jaehyun’s family is well off.

Late that night, tucked into bed under his thick sheets, Taeyong goes over all of the information he knows about Jung Jaehyun.

He has an annoyingly bright smile. He’s smart enough that he’d skipped a grade, so he’s younger than Taeyong by a year and a half. He’s shorter than Taeyong. He has dimples. He’s an Alpha.

That last factor. Taeyong decides after a lot of careful thinking that he doesn’t need Jung Jaehyun anywhere near him. Alphas are trouble, and he doesn’t want another one of them telling him what to do.

-

The next day when Taeyong is sitting at lunch with the other Omegas in his class, what he’d been fearing ends up becoming reality. Jaehyun approaches and asks tentatively, “Can I sit here?” He points at the empty seat on Taeyong’s other side, and just as the Omega to Taeyong’s left nods shyly, Taeyong shakes his head.

“No,” he says, and leaves it at that. When Jaehyun doesn’t move, he turns and faces the Alpha, sighing slowly. “You can leave now,” he says, pointedly staring at him. There are whispers from around him, quiet accusations, surprise at him being rude to an Alpha. Taeyong doesn’t care.

Jaehyun’s face falls, scuffing his shoes lightly on the tile floor. “Oh,” he mumbles quietly, “Okay. Bye, Taeyong.”

Taeyong watches his back retreat with contempt, rolling his eyes when the others demand to know why he’s being so mean. They’re all supposed to be innately demure, quiet and controlled, but Taeyong’s always been just a little too brazen to fit in.

The day after, Jaehyun approaches with a wide smile and crinkled eyes, but Taeyong brushes him off again. This becomes a routine, Jaehyun always appearing at Taeyong’s side with the same question and the same smile, but Taeyong refuses his advances every day without fail.

Alphas are trouble and Taeyong doesn’t want to let himself get involved.

-

Moon Taeil comes to Taeyong’s life with all the force of a bulldozer.

With him, he brings half a sun-melted chocolate bar, a slightly chipped friendship ring, and a wide grin promising, “ _We’re going to be best friends, just you wait Taeyong_.”

Taeil, who’s been stuck in an Omega-only school for the majority of his life, is extremely fascinated by the Alpha who asks if he can sit with Taeyong at least once a week. The answer is always the same though—a blank look and a firm denial.

Taeil worms his way into Taeyong’s life like a rapidly spreading infection—swift and destroying every wall of defense in his way. Taeyong is both scared and confused, but Taeil is also extremely nice and shares the soft chocolate chip cookies his mother packs him at lunch every day so Taeyong lets his guard down (very slowly and cautiously, but Taeil is a patient Omega.)

To Taeyong’s very obvious disapproval, Taeil also makes friend with a number of Alphas, Jaehyun included. Taeil’s concept of _it’s simply not done_ isn’t very good and soon he has a whole club of smitten Alphas following him around at recess.

Fortunately, Jaehyun is not part of the bunch. Unfortunately, he still follows Taeyong around like some sort of stray dog. In the hallways, Jaehyun waves enthusiastically whenever he sees Taeyong, and much to the Omega’s horror, Taeil has taken to waving back just as eagerly.

“He’s a good Alpha,” Taeil says one day at recess when Taeyong is listing out reasons for the older boy to join him in spiting Jaehyun. “He’s not mean or bossy like some of the other ones, and he doesn’t make you do what he says.”

Taeyong frowns, squints across the sunny schoolyard to where Jaehyun is sitting with some Betas, and twists his face in disgust, which makes Taeil giggle. “If he tried to tell me what to do I’d probably kick him. He’s so ugly.” Taeyong says finally. “You wouldn’t want an ugly soulmate like that, would you?”

Taeil laughs out loud at that and slaps Taeyong’s arm lightly. “He’s not that bad, Taeyong.”

Taeyong is about to ask for evidence on Jaehyun being _not that bad_ but then the bell rings and Taeil stands up, brushes the nonexistent dirt from the knees of his uniform, and sprints away to join his class, which also happens to be the same class as Jaehyun.

Taeyong scowls and watches Jaehyun walk over to Taeil and duck down to say something to him. Taeil throws his head back and laughs, and Taeyong feels something in his stomach churn.

It must be revulsion from having to look at Jaehyun’s ugly face, Taeyong rationalizes on his way to his own class.

-

In February, Jaehyun turns nine and Taeyong receives an invitation in the mail. It’s handwritten in Jaehyun’s scrawl and has tiny crayon flowers around the border, and while Taeyong’s mother coos about how cute it is, Taeyong notes how much better his own handwriting is, even if Jaehyun is in the same grade as him.

Taeyong throws it away the next day, but it’s not before his mother has written down the date and time in her planner, much to Taeyong’s chagrin.

A week later, Taeyong is sitting in Jaehyun’s house surrounded by a bunch of Alphas and Betas who he doesn’t know the names of. He’s sticking close to Taeil, the only other Omega there, but unfortunately for him, Taeil is popular and surrounded by people at all times.

Mostly, he’s sitting by the table with his legs drawn up to his chest as people eat and laugh and converse around him.

Jaehyun’s house is small but it’s nicely decorated and Jaehyun’s best friend, a nice Alpha called Johnny, sits by Taeyong and tries to get him to talk, and Taeyong really shouldn’t be so bratty, but being rude around Jaehyun is a habit by now.

Taeyong sits, pouty and sullen as Jaehyun tears through presents with delight, and then suddenly Jaehyun is plopping down next to him with a wide grin. Scowling, he turns away but Jaehyun taps him on the shoulder enthusiastically. Taeil, that traitor, is talking animatedly to a girl at least a head taller than him. “Do you need something?” Taeyong asks snidely to Jaehyun when the Alpha doesn’t stop trying to get his attention.

Jaehyun’s smile is crooked like his teeth. Taeil had called it endearing. Taeyong had told him to get braces. “I want to show you something.” Jaehyun reaches his hand out a little hesitantly.

Taeyong doesn’t take his offered hand but stands up. “Fine.” He relents.

He follows Jaehyun upstairs, leaving behind the rowdy voices of the children in the den. He’s lead to a room that must be Jaehyun’s, he realizes after a second.

It’s neater than he’d expected, and for that, Taeyong is thankful. If there’s anything he hates, it’s an unclean room. Jaehyun’s bed is made and all his things are put away on shelves.

Taeyong feels out of place. He crosses his arms tightly in front of his chest and asks, “Why did you bring me up here?”

Jaehyun awkwardly shifts his weight from foot to foot. “I know it’s my birthday but I wanted to get you something. I don’t know what you like because you wouldn’t tell me but Taeil told me your favorite color is black so… I made you something.”

 Taeyong has half a mind to turn around and walk back downstairs, but he stays in place, remembering the way his mother had whispered in his ear, _“please play nice, for once_ ,” before dropping him off. “Fine.” He says instead.

A wide grin of relief breaks out over Jaehyun’s face. Gesturing to the armchair in the corner of the room, he offers, “You can sit if you want. And close your eyes because it’s a surprise.”

Taeyong perches on the edge of the chair and holds out his hands. After a second of Jaehyun staring, he closes his eyes.

He hears the slide of a drawer opening, and then a pause as Jaehyun walks over. Taeyong isn’t expecting the gentle brush of Jaehyun’s fingers over his wrist and he nearly tears his hand away in surprise. It takes all his self-control to keep still and not peek.

“Okay,” Jaehyun says in a quiet voice. “You can open your eyes.”

 Taeyong glances down. It’s a braided bracelet, black and shot through with red.

Taeyong doesn’t want it.

It’s very well made, and Taeyong kind of can’t believe that someone like Jaehyun took the time and consideration to make this for him, and it’s cute, but he doesn’t want to accept anything from the Alpha. It’s an archaic practice; courting and wooing Omegas with gifts. Of course, Taeyong knows this is not that, but it just feels like giving in somehow.

But Jaehyun is already tying it around his wrist with his careful hands, and Taeyong finds the sharp rejection getting stuck in his throat.

Instead, he pulls his hand back the second Jaehyun lets go and mumbles, “Thanks.” He’s sure his cheeks are flushed.

Jaehyun’s shy smile becomes a wide grin when Taeyong doesn’t make any effort to remove the bracelet. “So you’ll keep it?” He asks eagerly.

Taeyong thinks about ripping it off and throwing it to Jaehyun’s feet. Then he thinks about the nervousness in Jaehyun’s smile, the warmth of Jaehyun’s fingers against his wrist. “Yeah.” He finally mutters. “I guess I’ll keep it.”

Jaehyun’s grin looks like it could split his face in half. He automatically goes in for a hug but stops when Taeyong cringes away.

“Sorry,” he says automatically, but he’s still smiling.

Taeyong looks down at his wrist until Jaehyun leaves the room to go back downstairs, counts to twenty, and slowly follows after him.

“Where did you get that?” His mother asks him by way of greeting when picking him up.

Taeyong meddles with his seatbelt in the back of the car, not wanting to tell the truth, but unwilling to lie. “Jaehyun gave it to me.” He finally says darkly, “He made it.”

He leaves out the part about him not wanting it in the first place, especially when his mother croons over how cute Jaehyun is, and how good of a son-in-law he’ll make some day. Taeyong scowls at the back of the passenger seat and says nothing.

-

Intimacy feels weird to Taeyong.

The Alpha on the screen kisses the Omega rather passionately. Taeyong looks down at his lap.

Taeil asks from his side of the couch, “Have you ever thought about it?”

“Thought about what?”

“Kissing an Alpha.” Taeil’s voice is dreamy, a little far away.

Taeyong scowls down at his thighs. The thought’s entered his mind once or twice, but he’s always quick to dismiss it. The only Alpha he’s technically supposed to kiss is Jaehyun, and he can’t stand the idea of that.

He fiddles with the bracelet around his wrist absently and mumbles, “Not really.”

Ever since he’d let Jaehyun put it on him, the Alpha had doubled his efforts to say hello and smile at Taeyong in the hallways and during break. While he’s not exactly overbearing- he’s just saying hello, after all- Taeyong feels annoyed for some reason.

“Kissing is kind of gross,” Taeil admits with a giggle. “But if you had to kiss one person then who would you choose?”

Taeyong doesn’t even need to think about it. “You.” He says immediately.

Taeil’s eyebrows rise up into his hairline. “Me?” He exclaims, blinking owlishly. “But- but what about Jaehyun?”

Taeyong bites his lip. “I hate him, though. I don’t want him anywhere near my face.”

Taeil stares at him for another second before he bursts out laughing. “You’re really weird, Taeyong.”

Taeyong kicks him.

-

The next time he sees Jaehyun, he tries to imagine it.

Kissing, that is.

Lips on lips. Jaehyun’s shorter than him, so he’d probably have to bend down. Would he be able to taste it? Would it be wet? Taeyong’s kind of disgusted even thinking about it.

Taeyong comes to the conclusion that he doesn’t really want to kiss anyone, including Jaehyun.

When Jaehyun sees the bracelet on his wrist at school and lights up, he corrects himself quickly. _Especially_ Jaehyun _._


	2. Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw if yall couldn't tell the chapter titles correspond with taeyong's age in them!

Taeyong hates the new kid.

Dongyoung comes to the first day of middle school, bowl cut covering his non-existent eyebrows, and grins dumbly at Jaehyun.

They’re best friends by lunchtime.

Taeyong doesn’t know why, but it makes anger fester inside him all day, a slow burning sensation that he can tell makes Jaehyun curious from the way the younger boy keeps glancing at him across the room. For some reason, this just serves to make him even more upset.

Taeyong sits with Taeil and another Omega called Ten outside during lunch and pretends not to be watching Jaehyun show Dongyoung around. They’re holding hands.

“Oh my god.” Ten says, shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand. “You’re so obvious.”

If Taeyong is not what an Omega is supposed to be, Ten is the exact dictionary definition. He’s gossipy, cute, and has been smitten with Jaehyun’s best friend Johnny since the first time he’d laid eyes on him (“Ew,” Taeyong says when he finds out, and Ten sticks his tongue out, telling him he has no taste in Alphas. Taeyong doesn’t even want a taste in Alphas.)

“Shut up.” Taeyong says, but not viciously, “Can you believe he found someone as ugly as him to hang out with?”

“Taeyong! You’re so mean,” Taeil chides gently.

“What? I’m just telling the truth.” Somehow, once he gets started, he can’t stop. His vexation from the day so far comes spilling out all at once. “It’s not like I have to be nice all the time. It’s been two whole years since we’ve met and he still trails after me like a lost dog. And if he likes the new kid so much, why couldn’t he have just been soulmates with _him_ instead of me? At least then he’d have someone who wants him.”

“Taeyong…” Taeil says, this time stricken and quiet.

Taeyong blinks. Taeil’s not staring at him anymore. He glances over his shoulder. Jaehyun is standing less than a meter away with Dongyoung in tow, the smile on his face falling slowly off his face.

Taeyong opens his mouth. “I-“

Jaehyun presses his lips together tightly, chin wobbling in a telltale way. His blinks furiously a couple times, eyes misty, and then he takes off sprinting across the field to the shade of the school building.

Dongyoung stands there a couple more seconds, arms helplessly limp at his sides. Awkwardness permeates the air between them until Dongyoung turns and slowly follows after Jaehyun, a slightly lost expression on his face.

“Taeyong,” Taeil sighs after a couple seconds, “You shouldn’t have said that.”

Taeyong knows. But once he’d opened his mouth, the words had just flowed of their own accord.

The expression on Jaehyun’s face, though. It makes him distinctly uncomfortable in the pit of his stomach, like he’d swallowed a whole stone.

Taeyong draws his knees up to his chest. “I didn’t mean it.” He whispers after a second. In his chest, a torrent of emotions hits him, and across the schoolyard, he spots Jaehyun sitting against the wall of the school, his head in his hands. Dongyoung’s sitting next to him, gently patting his back and whispering to him.

There’s sadness echoing around inside him, along with rejection and something that hurts so bad that Taeyong just doesn’t have a name for.

He really hadn’t meant it. Having Jaehyun for a soulmate- having a soulmate at all, in fact, is something he doesn’t want yet, doesn’t even want to think about. He just wants to sit with Taeil and trade Pokémon cards and watch silly dramas where the Alpha always finds their Omega, and vice versa. He doesn’t want the complicated feelings eating away at his chest, or the weight of all the expectations placed on him.

He doesn’t want a soulmate, maybe ever, but he’d much rather have Jaehyun’s inextinguishable happiness directed at him than at Dongyoung.

“Should I…” Taeyong looks at Taeil helplessly, but Taeil shrugs.

“I think you should use your own judgement on this one.” He mumbles finally.

“Taeil!”

“I don’t have a soulmate, Tae. I don’t know if you should wait until he cools down or if you should go, I don’t have any idea.” Taeil pouts a little and pats Taeyong’s knee. “But if you really don’t know, I would start by telling him you didn’t mean it.”

Taeyong squeezes his lips together. “I guess.” He mumbles finally. He gets up slowly, unnerved by all the tumultuous feelings inside him.

It takes him five whole minutes to walk across the yard because doubt keeps slowing him down, along with splashes of Jaehyun’s feelings hitting him like wounds.

Once he’s in the shade of the school building though, Taeyong is in earshot of Jaehyun’s soft sobs. They make him feel even worse on the inside. He wonders if he’d just throw up if they built up too much, a waterfall of tangled emotions.

“Jaehyun.” He says once he’s close enough. “Jaehyun, can I talk to you?”

Dongyoung is still there, looking with unsure eyes between Jaehyun’s shaking frame and Taeyong. Taeyong sends a hard stare his way. He gets the message and raises his arms up in surrender, then quickly backs up, walking towards where Taeil is sitting by himself. Great. Another person for Taeil to charm into being friends with them.

Jaehyun hasn’t raises his head from his arms when Taeyong looks back down at him. “Jae?” he tries again, this time softer. He’s never seen an Alpha over the age of ten crying before.

A minute later, Taeyong still doesn’t know what to say. He throws caution to the wind and sits down next to Jaehyun, pressing their shoulders together. “I didn’t mean it.” Taeyong whispers. “I really, _really_ didn’t.”

When the trembling in Jaehyun’s shoulders doesn’t stop, Taeyong heaves out a sigh and tilts his head to the side, rests his head on Jaehyun’s bicep. “Sorry.” He says finally. “I’m sorry, okay? Don’t cry.”

Taeyong stays like that until the end of lunch and Jaehyun cries until the end of lunch, then spends the rest of the day with puffy red eyes.

-

Jaehyun doesn’t come up to him every week at lunch anymore.

In fact, he seems to be trying his best to ignore Taeyong in any way he can. He doesn’t glance his way once during their free period, before, or after school. He doesn’t even think about Taeyong strongly enough for him to get the gist of the other’s feelings.

At first, Taeyong’s glad. He’s been asking Jaehyun to stop talking to him for just under two whole years now, and begins to think his harsh words were a blessing in disguise.

However, when he catches himself staring at Jaehyun and Johnny across the lunchroom for the third time that week, he realizes he kind of misses the younger boy’s relentless persistence and bright, wide smiles.

He’s too afraid to do anything about it, though. When Jaehyun’s eyes meet his across the room, he quickly looks down at his lap and pretends he hadn’t been staring in the first place.

And then one night, a little over a month later, Taeyong finds himself missing Jaehyun in the middle of the night.

It hurts like a piece of his chest has been carved out, deep and aching in the pit of his stomach, spreading through his toes and fingertips until he can’t help the tears that spring to his eyes. It’s an unbearable feeling, of shame and longing and a deep-set loss of _rightness_ , like everything on the planet’s shifted to the left by two inches and he can’t get used to it.

So, in his bed in the middle of the night, Taeyong carefully feels out all the golden, humming threads that lay deep inside him that tie him to Jaehyun so profoundly, so deeply that he can’t comprehend it yet.

Taeyong reaches out hesitantly, and on the other side is flat, heavy silence. Mental concrete.

Another pang in his chest. This time, it hits harder, and he gasps at the intangible impact. It feels like his organs are being squeezed in a tight fist, like his throat is closing up.

He’s never read anything about this before.

He ends up sliding out of bed, bare feet thudding against the cold wood floors as he descends down the stairs to the kitchen. His mother is still washing dishes at the sink, but she turns when she hears him come through the door and greets him with a half-smile.

When she catches the expression on his face, though, her smile falls. “What is it?” She asks, putting down the soapy bowl in her hands and rinsing them off.

He doesn’t want to tell her what he’d said to Jaehyun. Taeyong presses his hand to his tummy over his shirt. “I don’t know.” He admits, “My stomach hurts.”

The look on his mother’s face turns from one of confusion to understanding. “You should have told me earlier,” she sighs, turning back to the sink. “You probably need suppressants.”

“S-suppressants?” The new word tastes odd on his tongue.

She glances at him, putting the bowl away and grabbing another dish. “Don’t they teach you anything in health? You’re already twelve and they haven’t taught you about heats and suppressants?”

 _Heats_. Taeyong knows that word. “I know that stuff.” He says defensively.

His mother arches an elegant eyebrow. “So, you know that you can indefinitely prolong a heat by taking suppressants every day, right?”

He hadn’t known. However, he would rather die than admit that, so he nods sharply. “Can you get me some?”

She hums, pretending to contemplate. “I’ll call the doctor later tonight.”

He stands around for another minute, after which his mother gives him a strange look and says, “I told you I’d call. Go back to bed.”

He bites the inside of his mouth so hard it hurts, nods once, and turns to go back upstairs.

Back under the solace of his blankets, he thinks back to everything they’d learned in Health so far. He knows that heats happen about once every one or two months to Omegas, and that during one, he’d be extraordinarily uncomfortable and hot-hence the name- and, because he knows who his soulmate is, he’d probably want Jaehyun there with him.

Taeyong _really_ doesn’t want to feel any type of longing for Jaehyun, so he comes to the conclusion that he should take suppressants for the rest of his life.

-

At the doctor’s office, Taeyong feels like a specimen.

Once the doctors had found out that Taeyong’s already found his soulmate, they can’t stop asking questions.

So few people even find their soulmates nowadays with such a vast world population that it’s a miracle to find them at all, much less at such a young age.

“You don’t feel any kind of attraction to him?” The nurse asks for the third time.

Taeyong tightly shakes his head once. “Not at all.” He says again.

“You don’t feel safer when you’re with him?” Another doctor asks, pen poised over his clipboard.

Taeyong hasn’t really been alone with Jaehyun except for the time he’d given him his bracelet, and that was over a year ago, so Taeyong shakes his head again. The doctor nods like that’s the most interesting thing he’s heard all day and scribbles it down.

“Can I get my suppressants now?” Taeyong asks weakly.

“Yes, yes, we’ll get to that,” the doctor says, “But first let’s talk about what the connection is like. Can you discern where he is and what he’s going? Is it more abstract when you’re younger? Can you feel what he feels?”

On a list of things Taeyong likes to talk about, this is the lowest. “I don’t know.” He says, warm frustration creeping up the back of his neck, “I don’t know any of this, I don’t want to know about how he feels.”

At this, the doctor jots down more notes, nodding thoughtfully. “I see,” he says, and then puts down the clipboard. “Well, I can’t say I don’t wish we could have talked more, but I’ll give you the prescription and send you back to your mother.”

He takes the paper and returns to the waiting room, where his mother has her legs crossed neatly in her chair, tapping away at her phone. Taeyong waits until she stops typing to clear his throat and catch her attention.

“Can we pick it up immediately or is there a waiting time?” She says by way of greeting.

“Immediately. They’re sending it over to the pharmacy online.”

On the way to the pharmacy, Taeyong tries to convince himself that the pills are the best option for him.

Actually staring at the little sheet of tablets is different, though. They look harmless, completely innocent and light orange in color.

However, Taeyong keeps reading the list of side effects in tiny print on the back of the box. Nausea, vomiting, changes in a developing Omegas body. The last one stands as the most dubious. He’d had to look up exactly what it means online.

Omegas taking suppressants from a young age tend develop slightly later than others, it had said on the website. These Omegas tend to face more problems later in life, even after usage of the pills had stopped.

The doctor had informed him that the risk factor was minimal, though, so Taeyong pops the first tablet out of the case and downs it with a glass of water.

-

He doesn’t notice any immediate changes, so he continues on with his life.

However, Taeil gives him a funny look when he gets to school for the first time after starting the pills.

“What?” he asks, suddenly self-conscious. He tugs his backpack tighter over his shoulders.

Taeil leans in close and, eyebrows drawn low, asks apprehensively, “Did you do something?”

He ducks backwards away from the older boy and chooses his words carefully. “Not in particular. I started taking suppressants.”

Taeil wrinkles his nose. He hesitates. “You smell different.” He says finally, but shrugs and shoves his bag into a locker. “It’s not bad or anything, it’s just weird.”

At that moment, Jaehyun and Dongyoung walk past. Jaehyun’s still not talking to him, even though it’s been more than two weeks.

This morning, though, Jaehyun stops mid-step and glances around until his eyes land on Taeyong. He blinks once. Then twice.

“Taeyong?” he says cautiously. Taeyong bites the inside of his cheek. He’d almost forgotten how soft Jaehyun’s voice can get. The ache in his chest returns, catches him by surprise this time. His mother had told him it would recede with the suppressants, but it’s still there, back at full force like it had never left.

“Yes?” Taeyong says weakly. The fluorescent hallway lights are too harsh and he kind of wishes he could just disappear into a locker.

Jaehyun hesitates. He adjusts the bag on his shoulder shifts his weight back and forth on his feet. “Maybe we should talk.”

The hallways are so crowded in the morning, seas of people rushing by them to get to the first class of the day. Taeyong feels exposed in the midst of the crowd. “Here?” He asks, half in disbelief.

“The roof?” Jaehyun suggests, “Dongyoung has keys because of gardening club, and he’d probably lend them to me.” At his side, Dongyoung nods enthusiastically, swinging his bag around to detach a keychain from it.

Taeyong glances down at his watch as he follows Jaehyun against the tide of students ambling to class. They have a little less than six minutes to be in first period.

Instead, they climb the empty stairwell up to the roof, Taeyong leading the way to the locked metal door. There are several signs telling students to stay out, but Taeyong steps out of the way and lets Jaehyun fumble with the lock.

On the floor under them, the bell rings, shrill and sharp. Taeyong grimaces. So they’d be skipping first period after all.

The sky is overcast with heavy dark clouds, the smell of ozone in the air. The hairs on Taeyong’s arms stand on end. He walks all the way over to the other end of the roof and leans against the railing. Jaehyun looks even paler under the clouds, his skin taking on an almost translucent quality. It occurs to Taeyong that the Alpha looks almost…sickly.

“I’m really sorry,” he blurts out before he can stop himself. “I didn’t mean what I said.”

Jaehyun’s face softens at the words. “I know,” he says, “I know you didn’t, but it still hurt.”

Taeyong opens his mouth to respond, but at that second, the door to the roof bangs open. Panic rushes through him fast, but before he can react, there’s a hand grabbing his, wrenching him forward into the miniscule space between a corner of the roof and the school’s water tank.

Squeezed between the tank and Jaehyun’s chest, Taeyong finds himself face to face with the Alpha. They’re so close that Taeyong could count Jaehyun’s individual eyelashes. For some reason, his face feels hot.

“The teachers always check if anyone’s up here at the beginning of school.” Jaehyun whispers. “Johnny’s been caught once or twice.”

Taeyong stays very still because whenever Jaehyun talks, his lips brush against Taeyong’s cheek. It’s a very odd feeling.

“You smelled different this morning,” Jaehyun continues, “And now that I’m closer I guess it’s like… I can still smell you under it, but there’s something… masking you? I don’t like it.”

“I don’t care if you like it or not.” Taeyong whispers back, having half a mind to shift his elbow a couple inches and dig it into Jaehyun’s stomach.

“What is it?” Jaehyun asks.

The roof door clicks shut again, and Taeyong lets out a deep breath. He untangles himself from Jaehyun as quickly as he can without hurting himself and slides out from the corner. Jaehyun climbs out from the tiny space as well, and Taeyong’s surprised they even fit into it in the first place.

“Tae?” Jaehyun says expectantly. Oh. Taeyong had forgotten that he’d asked a question.

“Suppressants,” Taeyong says eventually, “The smell is from suppressants.”

Jaehyun’s lips drop open into a tiny surprised circle. “Aren’t those bad for you if you take them when you’re so young?”

The fact that Jaehyun knows more about the pills than Taeyong initially had makes him annoyed. “So young?” He asks, “I’m still almost two years older than you are, aren’t I?”

“Sure,” Jaehyun says amicably, “It’s your body and you can do what you want. I’m just wondering if you’ll be healthy while doing it.”

“Well maybe that would be a valid concern if you had any reason to be concerned about it.” Taeyong narrows his eyes, glares at Jaehyun until the younger boy looks at the ground. “But I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

Jaehyun obviously doesn’t want to start another fight. He raises his hands and tries for a passive smile but it comes out halfhearted. “Of course not.” After a minute, he adds, “Maybe we should set up some ground rules so we don’t keep stepping on each other’s toes.”

“Fine,” Taeyong agrees easily, “You can’t keep bothering me at lunch.”

Jaehyun’s mouth twitches like he’s suppressing the urge to frown. “Fine. But you can’t trash talk me to Taeil and Ten anymore.”

Taeyong bites the inside of his cheek hard. How does Jaehyun even know about that? “Fine,” He grits out, “Then you have to quit acting like I’m going to fall head over heels for you just because that’s what everyone keeps telling me to do.”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows, perplexed. “I don’t think you’d fall in love with me because of what people are telling you to do.”

“That’s what it seems like.” Taeyong fires back immediately.

“Well it’s not.” Jaehyun has a tiny frown playing at his lips, and Taeyong stares at the crease between his dark eyebrows. “I don’t want you to do anything because you think you have to.”

Taeyong doesn’t _think_ anything. He’s seen the way people stare if he doesn’t do what’s expected of him. He’s felt the harsh glares of Alphas and Betas, the shame from other Omegas when he speaks out of turn or steps out of line. “That’s the reason we’ll never be able to get along. You think I don’t have to do anything. I _know_ what I’m supposed to do.”

He holds a hand up when Jaehyun opens his mouth to protest and continues, “It’s okay. I don’t expect you to understand. I know you’re an Alpha and you don’t have to think about the same things I do. You don’t have to think about the fact that the rest of your life is being drawn out for you.”

At this, Jaehyun’s mouth snaps shut. There’s a moment of silence, the tension so thick between them that Taeyong thinks he could feel it if he reached his hand out. “You’re right.” Jaehyun finally admits, and his eyes shine with sincerity, “I don’t know about being an Omega. I don’t know what’s expected out of you, and I don’t know what everyone else wants from you. But I know that I don’t expect those things out of you. I don’t hate when you tell me to go away. In fact, it makes me want to try again until I figure out what makes you happy. I don’t need you to know what the rest of our lives is going to be. I just want us to be friends, right now.”

Taeyong knows then and there that Jaehyun is far too young and optimistic to truly understand. “Let’s just.” He sighs, trying very hard not to let his voice wobble, “Can we just put it behind us? I don’t want to think about this anymore.”

Jaehyun bites his lip. “Okay,” he agrees after a minute, “Let’s put it behind us.”

“Great,” Taeyong mutters, “I’m going to class now, before it’s too late for me to make up some sort of excuse.” He yanks open the door, but Jaehyun stays standing by the water tank, his arms wrapped loosely around himself. “You’re not coming?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, eyes shining, his chin trembling again. Taeyong knows he’s going to cry, not only from his physical state, but also the tangle of emotions echoing in his stomach. Jaehyun’s upset, maybe even more so than before their conversation. When Taeyong looks at him though, he smiles weakly, a forced, quaking expression.

Taeyong lets the door bang shut behind him and as he descends down the stairs, tries not to let that face bother him.


	3. Thirteen

Taeyong has never given Betas a second thought. That is, until he meets Yuta when he’s thirteen. He sits alone in the corner of the lunchroom, picking awkwardly at his food on the first day of the school year. He looks like fresh meat—a new kid alone on the first day? He might as well strap a fucking sign to his back saying _pick on me I’m vulnerable!_

But weirdly enough, when Taeyong walks over (carefully ignoring Jaehyun’s curious stare when he passes the Alpha’s table), the Beta looks up and meets his eyes, not flinching away in the slightest. Honestly though, why would he? Taeyong is an Omega, lower in social caste than he is.

Taeil trails after him uncertainly, both curious and wary of the boy sitting at their usual table.

“This is our table,” Taeyong proclaims, staring at the Beta down his nose. “You should move.”

Taeyong is expecting him to say something along the lines of “ _Who are you to be telling me what to do?”_ or “ _Fuck off_ ,” but instead he gets a sweet smile and a slightly accented, “Why can’t we all sit here? There are empty seats right here.”

A snappish remark is right on the tip of his tongue, but then Taeil is sliding into the seat across from the Beta with a pleased look on his face and tugging Taeyong down next to him by his sweater sleeve, so Taeyong decides to keep his mouth shut.

“I’m Taeil,” he says pointing at himself, “And that’s Taeyong. He’s really cute but he pretends he’s not.”

Taeyong splutters, flustered when the beta laughs pleasantly. “I’m Yuta. I moved here a couple weeks ago from Japan and I haven’t made any friends yet.” He smiles proudly like that’s an accomplishment.

“Are you some kind of idiot?” Taeyong blurts, unable to keep his spite to himself.

 _“Taeyong.”_ Taeil admonishes, then, to Yuta, “Excuse him please, he’s probably just bitter you’re taller than him.”

Taeyong snarls and drops his tray down across from Yuta. To his annoyance, the Beta just smiles again, eyes curving into crescents so sweet they make Taeyong’s teeth ache.

-

Once the initial shock of a Yuta eating lunch with them every day wears off, Taeyong realizes that he’s not actually so bad.

The foreign boy sits next to him in Biology, grateful that he knows at least one person in their class now. Out of that deal, Taeyong gets Yuta’s obnoxiously intelligent brain as he whizzes through their lab reports. (“Science is science, no matter what language it’s in,” Yuta tells him when he asks.)

Yuta’s from some place called Osaka, and when he speaks, he doesn’t always make sense, but he makes up for it by smiling in a (dare he say it?) cute way and asks for the correct phrasing. More often than not, Taeyong teaches him.

And everything is normal, until Yuta sends that cute smile his way one day at the library after school and Taeyong’s heart skips a beat, his face flushing with warmth. He winds up picking up a random book, staring hard at the lines he can’t focus on until Ten laughs at him and wonders aloud why he’s holding it upside down.

Fucking Ten.

Before he knows it, the complicated feelings in his chest are blossoming into a full-blown crush.

-

Taeil catches on fast.

Of course, he does. He’s been Taeyong’s best friend forever, and he’s able to read Taeyong’s moods better than Taeyong himself.

“It’s a bad idea.” He says simply, late one night when they’re both tucked under the sheets at his house. Taeil’s room is familiar in the way his own is. He’s spent countless nights under this warm blue blanket, his legs tangled with Taeil’s.

“I can’t help it.” He argues back, instantly understanding what nameless topic they’re discussing.

Taeil turns over, the shadows of the dark room concealing the emotions on his face. “Taeyong,” he says, and even with just that, Taeyong knows exactly what he’s trying to get at.

“What do you want me to do about it?” Taeyong sighs, “I can’t help who I like.”

He’s had Yuta on the brain all week, even when he’s trying to focus on other things. All he can think about is Yuta’s charming smile, and the way he likes to play footsie in the library when they should be studying, or how the veins in his arm shift when he’s writing.

Taeil just sighs again. “Be careful, okay?” He says at last.

“I’m always careful.” Taeyong says in pretend outrage.

Even if he can’t see the other boy in the dark, he can picture the way he rolls his eyes perfectly in his head.

-

Much to Taeyong’s displeasure, Yuta doesn’t sit with him and Taeil at lunch the next day. Instead, he’s sitting with Johnny, Dongyoung, Mark, and Jaehyun, laughing his ass off at something Dongyoung is saying.

Once the initial shock of seeing them together wears off, Taeyong decides it would be best to just ignore all of them. As he tries to walk past as discreetly as possible, Yuta calls out, “Taeyong, I saved you a seat over here!”

Fuck. Taeyong walks over stiffly, forces out a smile and says, “Hey, Yuta.”

Yuta’s already grinning, saying, “Do you know Johnny, Jaehyun, Mark, and Dongyoung? We’ve been playing basketball together in gym class. Sit down.”

Johnny’s staring at Taeyong with some fascination, like he’s amused Taeyong never bothered to tell Yuta what he and Jaehyun are to each other.

“Actually, we know each other already.” Taeyong says, just because he hates seeing that arrogant expression on Johnny’s face. He sits down right across from Jaehyun, jaw set stubbornly. He can deal with one lunch period.

“Great!” Yuta exclaims, because he’s too sweet to read the tension. “Then I guess the introduction wasn’t necessary.”

Yuta resumes his conversation with Johnny about living abroad, and Taeyong sits there next to him, halfheartedly picking at his lunch. He’s more interested in the way Yuta’s face lights up when he smiles, the shiny earring glinting in his ear.

From across the table, Taeyong can feel Jaehyun’s eyes lingering on him. Jaehyun has a studious way of looking at everything, like he’s trying to memorize every facet of Taeyong’s face.

“I like your piercing.” Taeyong blurts out, because he doesn’t want to think about Jaehyun staring at him.

Yuta smiles with his entire face, eyes crinkling in a way that makes Taeyong’s stomach flutter. “Ten helped me do it after school last week. You should get one too! I think it would look really nice on you because your face is so cute.”

He should have known; Ten’s got two ears full of metal, and he’s been thinking of ways to get his tongue pierced without telling his parents for ages. Taeyong, on the other hand, hates needles with a passion.

“I’m not that cute,” Taeyong argues, cheeks flushing.

“You’re not cute,” Yuta says in agreement, “You’re adorable. The absolute cutest. Isn’t Taeyong the cutest, Jaehyun?”

Of all the people to call out. Taeyong grits his teeth and waits for his response.

Jaehyun’s face turns an odd shade of pink as he stares down at his water bottle. “Uh,” he says very eloquently.

“Yeah, yeah, Taeyong’s cute,” Ten interrupts, suddenly appearing as if out of thin air. Taeyong’s never been more thankful for the other Omega in his life. “I only caught the last part of that conversation, but I can guarantee that I am definitely cuter than him, though. Right, Johnny?”

“You wish,” Yuta scoffs, but he swings an arm around Ten as soon as he sits down. “This is nice, you guys. Why don’t we all sit together more often?”

 _Because I hate how Jaehyun makes me feel_ , Taeyong thinks as Ten exclaims, “You’re so right. we’ve all been friends since like elementary school, but we split up as soon as we got to middle.”

“Right,” Dongyoung throws in, “It’s like all the Alphas decided to be friends with Alphas and Omegas decided to be friends with Omegas.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow. “Dongyoung…” he says slowly, “You’re not an Alpha or an Omega.”

Dongyoung tries not to look flustered (and fails) and everyone winds up laughing good naturedly at him.

And somehow, it helps to relieve the unbearable tension.

-

 Taeyong doesn’t know how he feels about Yuta uniting his friend group with Jaehyun’s, because all of a sudden, their after-school studying sessions include four more (significantly rowdier) boys, and one of them is Jaehyun, who more often than not winds up looking at Taeyong instead of his homework.

Of course, Taeyong isn’t focused on his studies either. He’s much more interested in how Yuta’s eyebrows crease together when he’s trying to figure out a particularly difficult problem.

He’s decided he’s going to tell the Beta about how he feels. He’s always been straightforward, and he figures it would be better to get it over with instead of continuing to stumble around like a lovesick fool.

The problem, as it stands, is that he can never find a minute to get Yuta alone. He’s sociable almost to a fault, constantly chatting away with Dongyoung or giggling with Taeil about something. He doesn’t live in the same direction as Taeyong, so he doesn’t even have that excuse to get him by himself.

Until they get assigned a science project, that is. He immediately tells Yuta, “We’re doing it together. I need the good grade.”

They spend the rest of the class thinking of a topic. Taeyong gently tries to steer them away from everything involving soulmates, but Yuta stays firmly rooted in the idea, already thinking of how to organize their paper.

“Of course, we’d need a pair to soulmates to interview.” He muses, and Taeyong tries very hard not to look him in the eye.

He doesn’t want to lie to the Beta either, so he mumbles under his breath, “I have one.” Only, the words slur together and sound more like a jumbled mess.

“Hmm?” Yuta asks, glancing up from his notes. He’s still getting the hang of writing in Korean, his characters sloppy and childish. “What did you say?”

“I said, I have one.” Taeyong tries to sound as casual as possible, correcting one of Yuta’s spelling errors before daring to glance up at him.

Yuta isn’t looking at him in bewilderment, though. He’s still staring down at the paper, preoccupied in the project. “I know.” He says conversationally.

“What?”

“I said I already know. Jaehyun already explained the situation to me a while ago,” he says, scribbling something in the margin of their paper.

Suddenly strangely frustrated, Taeyong runs a hand through his hair, sitting back in his seat. “Oh.” Of course, Jaehyun had told him. Jaehyun’s not exactly shy about the whole soulmates thing, and Yuta has been hanging out with him often lately.

“So, you know we’re not…” Taeyong trails off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. He wants to let Yuta know that he’s available in the subtlest way possible.

“Yeah,” Yuta says, finally writing out the title of their paper, “Okay, so about the paper. If we’re doing the effects of finding your soulmate at a young age, I would insist on using you and Jaehyunnie, but you guys aren’t exactly ideal from what I’ve heard, so let’s change it and do the effects of a heat on an Omega’s body.”

Taeyong picks up a pen and corrects Yuta’s latest spelling mistake. “Okay,” he agrees, glad that he won’t be a test subject and that Yuta knows he isn’t bound to Jaehyun by anything other than circumstance. He reaches out a hand for a high five. “We’ve got this.”

Yuta smacks their palms together and grins. “It’s practically going to write itself,” he agrees.

-

The first thing Taeyong learns about having Yuta to himself is that the Beta becomes significantly less loud when it’s just the two of them. He enjoys the quiet calmer side of Yuta’s personality, though. He’s more thoughtful like this, his smiles softer, less Japanese slipping through into his vocabulary than when he’s excited and with everyone.

They hole themselves up in Yuta’s room, which, unfortunately, resembles a trash heap. Every time Taeyong steps into it, he has to dodge crumbs and empty snack wrappers, muddy soccer balls and dirty long socks, empty plastic water bottles piled up next to the bed.

He’s always itching to clean up after the Beta, but he reins in the urge. Instead, he sits on the edge of Yuta’s bed away from the mess.

“Sorry about the, y’know…” Yuta waves a vague hand around before settling next to Taeyong, grabbing the notebook with their outline in it.

“It’s fine.” Taeyong lies, flipping through the thick Biology textbook. They’d left off on the section about heats in male Omegas. Taeyong braces himself for another paragraph about how useless his biology is.

They work silently for a while, but Taeyong can’t keep his concentration on the book when Yuta’s face is inches from his, lips slightly parted as he copies down notes.  It’s a strangely intimate feeling, looking at someone and being able to see the tiniest details of their face.

He’s always hated the idea of intimacy, but he doesn’t think he’d mind kissing Yuta.

He’d planned on confessing his feelings first, but Taeyong’s always been headstrong. He leans in before he can think better about it and then he’s closing his eyes, pursing his lips, and then, they’re kissing.

They’re kissing.

He’s never kissed anyone in his whole life, but now he’s here with _Yuta,_ who’s soft and sweet and so nice, and they’re _kissing_.

Yuta pulls away first, his eyes wide and stricken. “Taeyong…” he murmurs, and Taeyong knows that expression all too well. His stomach does a free fall as Yuta continues, “We can’t do this.”

Rejection hits him like a slap in the face.

“B-but,” he stammers, but Yuta’s already holding him at arm’s length, caution all over his face. “But _why_?”

Yuta runs a hand through his hair in frustration, messing it up even more, and to Taeyong’s irritation, it just makes him look even more attractive. “You know why,” he says finally.

Taeyong doesn’t know why. He searches Yuta’s face, looking for an answer. At the troubled look in the other boy’s eyes, he finally understands. He narrows his eyes. “You’re not going to even give me a chance because of _him_? I don’t even like him!”

“I can’t do that to him, Taeyong,” Yuta whispers, “He really likes you and you know we’re friends. I don’t want to hurt him. Please, don’t make me do this.”

“I’m not his property.” Taeyong says slowly, venomously, “I’m not his to have. I’m my own person with my own feelings.”

Tears sting at his eyes, threating to drop down his face at any second, but he blinks them back and demands, “If he didn’t exist. If I’d never met him, would you say yes?”

Yuta’s holding his arms around himself, eyebrows drawn together. He looks sadder than he has any right to be, Taeyong thinks in outrage.

He shakes his head.

Taeyong lets out a huge shuddery breath that comes out as half a sob and wipes at his stinging eyes. “Fine. Fuck, I understand.”

Yuta reaches out, eyes pleading. “Taeyong,” he murmurs, but Taeyong flinches away before his hand can make contact. He stands up, and the textbook in his lap crashes to the floor. “Taeyong, please.”

He grits his teeth together until they ache. “I need you to leave me alone for a little bit.” He finally says. “I just- I need to get over you, and I can’t do that if you keep being nice to me. So please, just- for my sake, just pretend this didn’t happen so we can go back to normal.”

Yuta seems troubled, but he nods a little unsurely. “If that’s what you need,” he mumbles.

“Lets just do the rest of the project online or something, okay?” Taeyong swiftly gathers his bag, shoves all his papers into it, and tries not to look at the distress on Yuta’s face. “I think I’ll go home now.”

Yuta sighs deeply. “Okay,” he agrees, putting down the pen in his hand. “But I need to tell you. It’s not just because of him. He may be a miniscule part of it, but I can’t force myself to feel things. I can’t see you that way. It’s as simple as that.”

Taeyong’s chest feels like an open wound. “Okay,” he repeats. “It’s fine. I told you, I understand.”

He leaves Yuta’s house, and because he has an hour until he has to be home, he walks aimlessly through the neighborhood until his back hurts from carrying his heavy bag.

-

When he finally arrives home and bothers to check his phone, he finds three missed calls. One is from Taeil, and the other two are from Jaehyun.

He locks himself in his room and calls Taeil back first. “Yuta told me what happened,” Taeil says by way of greeting. “He figured you’d want to talk.”

For some reason, Yuta’s consideration makes Taeyong ache even more. “He didn’t even give me a chance.” His voice sounds empty, free of emotion.

“It’s okay,” Taeil soothes, even though Taeyong thinks it’s anything but. “Think about it like this. If he’d forced himself to like you, it would just end badly. At least you got to end it cleanly, instead of things dragging out and becoming a mess.”

Damn Taeil for actually being logical. Taeyong wants to cry and rage and be understood, not answered and soothed.

Taeyong presses his face into a pillow and resists the urge to scream. “Why does this shit have to happen to me?” He wonders aloud. Taeil hums sympathetically over the line.

“Jaehyun called me twice,” he continues, “but I don’t know if I’m going to call him back or not. If I hear his voice right now, I think I’m going to start yelling at him, and it’ll just cause another stupid fight.”

“He’s just worried. You know he didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“I hate that I can’t even be upset about him without him knowing.”

“I know, Yong.” There’s a rustling noise over the line, and then Taeil says, “Do you want me and Ten to come over? We can have a sleepover and watch dumb dramas all night.”

Taeyong rolls over onto his back. He stares at the blank white ceiling. Dramas shouldn’t be so unrealistic, he thinks to himself. Giving people all these false hopes and fueling stereotypes about Alphas and Omegas. But he wants to see Ten and Taeil. “Okay,” he says in a small voice.

“We’ll be over in an hour.” Taeil promises, and then the line goes dead.

Taeyong stares at Jaehyun’s name in his missed calls list until the characters become blurry. He blinks, and tears seep from the corners of his eyes.


	4. Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw theres some underage drinking in this chapter just a warning!

Jaehyun shoots up so fast the change seems overnight. One day he’s the same height as Taeyong, and then he’s a head taller the next.

He’s still gangly, with skinny arms and big hands and feet, baby fat still clinging to his cheeks.

Ten says, “I think Jaehyun’s going to be hot when he fills out.”

Taeyong says, “I think he just got even uglier.”

They’re sitting in a diner, discussing the best way to flirt with an Alpha (at least, that’s what Yuta and Ten are discussing. Taeyong really couldn’t care less and is messing around on Dongyoung’s phone.)

They’re still waiting for Johnny and Jaehyun to show up and give an Alpha’s perspective when a foot nudges against Taeyong’s. He glances up, at first sure that it’s Dongyoung trying to bother him. The Beta isn’t paying him any attention though, talking to Taeil about some new band they’ve been listening to. Instead, Taeyong finds himself eye to eye with Yuta.

Yuta tilts his head to the side and jerks his chin towards the bathroom. Should he pretend he hadn’t seen? Should he go?

Yuta stands up then, announces that he needs to use the restroom, and slips out of the booth. After a second, Taeyong stands as well. He mutters out the same excuse and follows after the Beta.

When Taeyong lets the bathroom door swing closed behind him, he finds Yuta leaning against a sink, an undiscernible expression in his eyes. Taeyong still thinks he’s beautiful in an effortless and casual way, but the burning in his chest has calmed to a manageable smolder of hurt in the past couple months. He’s not attracted to the Japanese boy in the same way he was last year, but the feeling of rejection lingers.

“Hi,” Yuta says sheepishly. They talk from time to time- they have to, when they’re in such a tight knit friend group, but it’s not the same as before.

Taeyong hops up onto the sink next to him and asks, “Did you really have to call me into the bathroom?”

Yuta smiles, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I wanted to talk to you in private, just in case. You know how my birthday is next week, right?”

Of course, he knows. Their friends have been talking about nothing except that for weeks, pondering over what to get him. “Sure,” he says aloud.

“I just… I just wanted to clear the air with you before my party. I know I hurt you, and I’m really sorry for that, but the thing is, I kind of have someone I like and I’m tired of us tiptoeing around each other, so can we put the whole thing behind us?  I just want to be friends again.” Yuta says all of this in a big rushed breath, and then immediately ducks his head down, braced for a rejection.

Taeyong bites his lip, then holds his hand out. Yuta takes it, and they shake on it. It doesn’t make Taeyong’s heartbeat stutter. It doesn’t make him blush. “It’s okay,” he says softly, “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

At his words, Yuta’s face softens, the tension leaving his shoulders. “So, are we cool?” He asks, a smile breaking out on his lips.

“Wait… Who do you like?”

Yuta flushes, color rising to his cheeks. “Uhh,” His fingers curl and uncurl. “You know that guy who manages the soccer team? That Alpha with the dark blond hair?”

“ _Ji Hansol_?” Taeyong screeches, “You have a thing for Ji Hansol?”

Before Yuta can respond, the door to one of the stalls bursts open to reveal Ten standing against the flimsy door. “You guys are so stupid,” he says as he passes to a sink to wash his hands, “A boy can’t pee without getting drama and apologies around here. Make sure the bathrooms are empty next time you decide to make a confession.”

Ten huffs in annoyance, letting the bathroom door slam shut behind him. Taeyong and Yuta are left staring after him for another second before a laugh of disbelief bubbles its way out of Taeyong’s mouth.

Yuta joins in, and it feels like they’re letting the lingering awkwardness flow out with that.

-

The night of Yuta’s party, Taeyong gets dressed, decides he’s not going, undresses, decides he’s going after all, and gets dressed again. Which isn’t say much, except that it happens three times before his mother gets tired of it and tells him to get in the car.

They might have decided not to be awkward around each other anymore, but Taeyong still lingers on Yuta’s doorstep for much longer than necessary before he gathers his courage and knocks.

Yuta answers the door with a party hat sitting crooked on his head, Ten peeking around his shoulder to smile at Taeyong.

“You’re late, but I’ll let it go,” Yuta says with a wink.

“Because I’m cute?” Taeyong asks, falling into step with this familiar routine.

“Because you’re fucking adorable,” Yuta grins, reaching out to squeeze Taeyong’s cheek between his cold fingers. “And because Ten told me you got me something I really wanted.”

“Don’t tell him I told you!” Ten whines, but he’s smiling, as glad at the two of them that they’re friends again.

In the basement, everyone’s sprawled around in a loose circle on the floor, Jaehyun leaning into Johnny’s side, Dongyoung against the back of the sofa, Taeil and Mark conversing about something that looks serious from their expressions but is probably dumb as fuck if Taeyong bothered to listen in. To his surprise, Ji Hansol is there too, sitting on Johnny’s other side, looking a bit stiff, but smiling nonetheless.

The party goes smoothly for the most part, until Johnny reaches into his overnight bag and pulls out two full water bottles, raises an eyebrow, and says, “Guess what these are.”

Chaos immediately erupts and Taeyong cringes at the noise. He, for one, is grateful that Yuta’s parents went to see his sister at university for the weekend and aren’t home. Surely this much noise would have given them away otherwise.

“I want the first shot!” Yuta demands, “It’s my birthday.”

“I’m the one who brought it,” Johnny pouts, but allows Yuta to take the bottle from him.

“Taeyong, bring me the soda.” Yuta says, twisting open the bottle.

Taeyong reaches over to the table next to him and grabs a bottle of coke, which gets passed around the circle until Yuta has it in his hands. “The key,” he declares, “Is the perfect vodka to coke ratio.”

“Fuck you,” Mark laughs, “You have no idea how to mix drinks.”

“You’re barely old enough to even look at the bottle,” Yuta counters, carefully measuring out vodka and filling the rest of the cup with coke. He takes a sip, sits up, and holds the glass out. “Let’s play a drinking game.”

“We are _not_ letting Mark drink,” Taeyong interrupts. “He’s like ten years old.”

“I’m twelve!” Mark says, as if that’s any better. “Besides, Jaehyun-hyung’s like thirteen.” He does his best impression of a puppy, eyes wide and gleaming.

“Leave me and Mark out of it, then,” Jaehyun chimes in easily, his head on Johnny’s lap. “I won’t drink if you won’t.” He tells Mark.

Mark groans, but settles on a cup of plain soda.

Suddenly Dongyoung’s pushing a glass into Taeyong’s hand. He sniffs it, and recoils immediately.

“What are we playing?” Hansol asks, taking a tentative taste of his own cup. He screws his face up a little but a second later, takes another small sip.

“Never have I ever gotten my ass kicked by someone younger than me.” Dongyoung says instead of answering, staring at Johnny.

“Fuck you, there were like three kids.” Johnny says, but takes a gulp of his own drink, immediately picking up on the game. “Never have I ever smoked weed.”

Yuta drinks, his eyes furtively glancing over the rest of the circle. When no one else moves to pick up their glass, he says, “Really?”

“Stoner,” Mark says under his breath.

“It’s not my fault my friends in Osaka were wilder than you guys,” Yuta says, putting his glass down with a smirk. “Never have I ever gotten detention.”

Taeyong takes his first drink of the night, flinches at the way it burns in his mouth and down his throat, settling hot at the pit of his stomach. Dongyoung and Johnny also take a sip from their cups.

“Never have I ever kissed anyone,” Dongyoung throws out.

Taeyong flushes bright red. He takes a quick gulp, face contorting at the feeling of the alcohol going down. Johnny takes another shot, along with Hansol and Yuta.

However, everyone’s eyes flit back and forth between Taeyong and Jaehyun. Taeyong hates how awkward things get every time they’re the center of attention. More than that, he’s wondering why Jaehyun looks so conflicted right now.

Jaehyun sits up, grabs Johnny’s glass, and when Johnny doesn’t say anything, he takes a large gulp of alcohol. His eyes are downcast, staring at the pattered carpet under him. If the burn bothers him, he doesn’t let it show.

Mark doesn’t complain.

Taeyong can’t help but wonder who Jaehyun’s kissed. He hates that his brain first goes to Dongyoung, and once the image pops up in his mind, he can’t get it out.

“Okay,” Johnny says, clapping his hands loudly to relieve some of the tension in the room, “This is boring. We all know I’ve done everything you guys can think of and Taeil’s done none of it. Let’s play something else.”

“Hey!” Taeil says, “I’ve done tons of things.”

“Like what?” Ten challenges.

Taeil furrows his eyebrows in thought. “Uhhh,” he mumbles.

Dongyoung pats his knee sympathetically and says, “Okay, next game because apparently all of us are dorks.”

Somehow, they get roped into a game of Truth or Dare.

Ten gets dared to take two straight shots of vodka, a dare that leaves him giggling against Johnny’s other side. Hansol gets locked in the closet for three minutes with Yuta, who looks like he’s ready to either spontaneously combust or pass out, and they both come out red faced but grinning like idiots.

Everyone gets progressively drunker, Taeil having to do a body shot out of Yuta’s bellybutton. He fails miserably, and Yuta winds up laughing so hard that all the vodka on his stomach goes dripping off his hips. Mark watches enviously as Taeyong and Johnny do a couple shot, linking their arms and tipping their glasses into each other’s mouths. Most of it winds up spilling down Taeyong’s chin and neck, the cold of the liquid making him yelp and jump away from Johnny, but they’re both laughing so hard it doesn’t matter.

Taeyong’s not normally a risk taker, but all of the Truth questions that have been going around the circle so far have been about crushes and first kisses, who thinks who is cute and who likes who. Taeyong’s still not willing to talk about what happened with Yuta with everyone, so when it’s his turn, he gives Dongyoung a hard look, takes a big gulp of his drink, and says, “Dare.”

There are a couple whoops and hollers. Taeyong’s known for continually playing it safe, after all, and it’s completely out of character for him to take a dare over an easy truth.

Dongyoung twists his lips in consideration, taking a long ass time before he finally says, “What’s Taeyong scared of?” Immediately, Taeyong begins to regret his choice. He should be asking, “What isn’t Taeyong scared of?”

Instantly several correct answers are thrown around the circle.

“The dark.” Johnny says.

“No, it’s got to be horror movies.” Yuta protests.

Taeil throws in, “I think it’s being alone in the dark.”

“Ghosts?”

“Vampires?”

“Vampires don’t exist, you dumbass.”

Dongyoung pouts at Johnny for the last remark and decides, “Okay, I got it. Taeyong, I dare you to walk over to that creepy old house a couple streets over and stay there for ten minutes by yourself in the dark.”

Tipsy chattering breaks out in the circle, both excited and nervous. Taeyong feels his stomach turn over. Trust Dongyoung to think of the worst thing possible, the fucking asshole. He knows exactly what house the Beta’s talking about, too. It’s been abandoned for years, and as a result, is falling apart, the shingles dirty and the gate rusted. Taeyong hates even walking past it.

 “That’s kind of harsh.” Jaehyun, probably feeling an echo of his nervousness, speaks up for the first time since the dare had been declared. “At least let him carry a flashlight.” Taeyong notices his head is on Johnny’s thigh again, and this time it makes something inside him feel…off somehow. It must be the alcohol clouding his conscience, he decides.

If Taeyong’s nerves weren’t already buzzing, he’d be annoyed at Jaehyun for suggesting anything, but he’d be grateful for a flashlight.

“Fine,” Dongyoung says, “Yuta, bring a flashlight.”

Yuta runs upstairs. Taeyong feels sick to his stomach, but he tries not to let it show on his face. “Why do I have to do the longest dare?”

 “Are you too scared?” Dongyoung raises an eyebrow, and Taeyong takes it as a challenge. There’s no way he can back down from Dongyoung’s taunting face.

“Fuck you,” he growls, and grabs the flashlight from Yuta’s hand. Cheers erupt from their friends, and Taeyong squares his shoulders, using their encouragement to rile up the courage inside him.

“I’ll walk you there.” Dongyoung smirks. “From the time I leave, it’s ten minutes.”

“Fine.” Taeyong says sharply, “Let’s get this over with.”

It’s windy outside, and the streetlights get sparser the further he goes down the street. The fall weather makes everything even eerier, the sky pitch black above their heads. He passes a solitary lamp outside the gates of the house. His head is spinning as he walks, but he doesn’t know if it’s from the alcohol or not. Goosebumps break out over his upper arms and sides, and he wonders why he hadn’t thought to grab a jacket before going to Yuta’s.

It doesn’t take long to find the house. Dongyoung stands on the sidewalk and pulls out his phone. “Ready?” He asks. Taeyong nods once. Dongyoung turns the timer on and says, “Go!”

Then he’s turning on his heels and sprinting back to Yuta’s house, calling, “We’ll send someone to get you when the timer’s done!”

He turns the corner, and then Taeyong’s alone.

He takes a deep breath and pushes open the gate, and it creaks on its rusted hinges as it swings open. He tries not to shiver at the noise. The wind blows past him, and he rubs at his arms, trying to warm them up, but the effort is futile.

The house is dilapidated, not so much that it looks disgusting, but enough that he can tell no one’s lived in it for a while. Taeyong takes a step towards it. Fear has been pounding in his chest since he his first step out of Yuta’s house. He’s never been good at dealing with things like horror movies or those haunted house attractions people put on before Halloween.

The wind blows again, and this time it’s noisy, a shrill whistling noise sounding as it pulls through the thick branches of a tree, and Taeyong startles hard, swinging the flashlight around him frantically.

There’s nothing but long, uncared for grass.

He needs to stop psyching himself out. The shadows are long and distorted because of the lack of street lamps, not because of the supernatural.

He takes a couple steps up the property, and then he’s standing in front of the wooden porch. It creaks when he climbs on, and he’s almost worried about it caving in under his weight.

Ten minutes. He can do this.

The door swings open on rusty hinges, revealing a dirty floor and shabby interior. When Taeyong tries the light switch, it doesn’t work. Nine minutes.

Taeyong ventures further into the house slowly, with only the thin beam of the flashlight to guide his way. His blood is buzzing in his veins from the alcohol, and the dusty interior just makes him feel even more lightheaded. His heart beats unevenly in his throat, and his fingers are wrapped around the shaft of the light so hard that they’re turning white at the knuckles.

But then, the creaking starts.

It’s like all the heat goes out of his body at once, leaving him cold and shivering in the dark. The sound is quiet at first, but it rises steadily, like someone walking around on the second floor. Taeyong’s so beyond scared, he can’t do anything but feel the blood rushing in his ears, fear clenching his ribcage tightly.

The creaking gets closer, like someone is approaching him.

Taeyong’s frozen in place, his heart thundering behind his ribcage. It’s so dark, it feels like the darkness is pouring down his throat, suffocating him. He’s never been so scared in his life, his alcohol-hazed brain intensifying the feeling. The creaking increases and decreases like it’s mocking him, sometimes closer and sometimes further. Taeyong’s so scared he can barely breathe.

There are hot tears tracking down his face and blurring his eyes, but he can’t seem to do anything about it.

And then, there’s a cold hand around his wrist.

Taeyong really does scream then, a raw and high-pitched sound that rips from his throat. The hand around his loosens and Jaehyun’s soft alarmed voice comes out of the darkness. “Taeyong?”

Taeyong’s shaking so bad he can’t care about who it is, can’t keep up his front just because he’s supposed to hate Jaehyun. He pulls the younger boy closer and then there are arms coming to wrap around Taeyong, holding him tightly to his chest. His head’s still spinning, but Jaehyun’s touch helps him find something stable to ground himself in.

Jaehyun uses the heel of his palm to wipe off the cooling tears on Taeyong’s cheeks, and his hand is startlingly warm against Taeyong’s cold skin. “You must have been so scared,” Jaehyun whispers, but it’s not in the condescending, challenging way Dongyoung have said it before, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have let them make you come here alone.”

Jaehyun holds him tenderly- much more tenderly than Taeyong deserves, if he’s being honest. He’s still shaking, but the creaking noise has receded again, and that helps him think more clearly. “H-how did you know?” he forces out, hating how much his voice trembles.

“I could feel it,” Jaehyun presses a hand to his chest where his heartbeat’s still running rampant. “So I ran over.”

“Oh,” Taeyong says in a tiny voice. He’s heard Ten make the offhand comment now and then-“ _Jaehyun’s getting so tall, isn’t he?”_ \- but he hadn’t realized exactly how tall that had entailed. Taeyong’s so easily ensconced in his arms now, the top of his head ending right under Jaehyun’s jaw. He feels small, but it’s not a bad feeling.

“Come on, I was supposed to be keeping time anyways, so they won’t know you didn’t stay the whole time. Let’s get out of here.”

Taeyong lets himself be led out of the house, back to the sidewalk. He flinches when the gate creaks shut behind them, but Jaehyun takes his hand again and squeezes it in a reassuring way.

Jaehyun holds his hand the whole way back to Yuta’s house, and for once, Taeyong doesn’t complain. Under the streetlights, Jaehyun’s half in shadow and half-bathed in the warm light. Taeyong tries very hard not to focus on the way his warm hand feels in his own clammy one.

“You kept it.” Jaehyun murmurs after a block down the neighborhood sidewalk. Taeyong follows his eyes down to their wrists. It’s the bracelet Jaehyun had made him when they were kids, now frayed and held together by a couple strings. He’d grown, so whereas it had originally been quite loose on his hand, it’s now snug around his wrist.

For some reason, Taeyong’s face burns. “I never take it off.”

Jaehyun doesn’t say anything after that, but his mouth is curled into a tiny, secretive smile.

They walk another block in silence before Taeyong’s curiosity gets the better of him. “When you drank earlier. During Never Have I Ever. Who did you kiss?”

Jaehyun’s mouth twists in amusement. “Johnny. It was pretty gross.”

For some reason, that takes a weight off Taeyong’s shoulders. It’s better than Dongyoung, at least. “Why’d you even do it, then?” He wonders.

Jaehyun hums, thinking. Taeyong has to take two steps for every one of his long-legged strides. “It was the middle of the night and we were both talking about how we’d never kissed anyone before. It was more of an experimental thing than anything else. It wasn’t disgusting or anything, but it didn’t feel right.”

“Oh.”

“Who was yours?” Jaehyun’s voice is casual, but Taeyong knows from the way he’s looking at the ground that he’s more interested than his indifferent façade lets on.

“Yuta,” Taeyong admits.

Jaehyun’s face falls into a frown. “Oh,” He echoes. “I thought you liked him last year, but I couldn’t tell for sure.”

“Don’t worry about it. He rejected me. He said he didn’t see me like that, and he has someone else he likes, anyways.” Taeyong’s never has a civil conversation like this with Jaehyun before. Somehow, it makes him feel more at peace. It feels good to let out how he feels about the whole Yuta situation.

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun says, and Taeyong already knew he’d apologize. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault.” It’s really not, Taeyong realizes as soon as the words are out. Jaehyun hadn’t known anything about him and Yuta. It isn’t as if he’d actively tried to keep Yuta from liking him. Some things just can’t be helped.

They’re on Yuta’s doorstep then. Taeyong turns to face him. “You’re not going to tell everyone I cried in the house, are you?”

Jaehyun’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Of course not. It’s our secret.”

 _Our secret._ Something just between the two of them.

“Okay,” Taeyong agrees tentatively, “Our secret.”

-

That night, when everyone’s asleep, tucked away in their sleeping bags, Taeyong stays up much later, counting his breaths and reflecting.

Jaehyun’s in the sleeping bag next to his by coincidence- but really, what’s coincidence to a soulmate?

He looks even younger when he’s asleep, his long, dark eyelashes sweeping the tops of his cheeks, dark hair falling over a delicate browbone.

If Taeyong doesn’t think about it, he can see why Taeil calls Jaehyun handsome so often.

If he does think about it, his mind automatically goes to the feeling of Jaehyun’s arms wrapped around him when he’d been shaking and out of his mind in fear.

Okay, so maybe Jaehyun’s not the demon Taeyong often makes him out to be.

He decides then and there that he should make an effort to be nicer to the younger boy, even if it’s difficult for him. Jaehyun deserves that much, at least.

-

The first time Taeyong actually tries to live up to his resolution, Jaehyun is so shocked that he can’t even respond.

He doesn’t do anything particularly unbelievable; he just comes up to the table they all usually sit at during lunch and taps at Jaehyun’s shoulder. When the younger boy turns around, his eyes widen comically, mouth dropping open in surprise.

“Hey,” Taeyong had said, forcing a smile that feels much more like a grimace, “Can I sit here?” He gestures vaguely to the empty seat next to the Alpha.

Jaehyun’s first attempt at an answer is an unintelligible stammer. His second attempt is a wheeze that makes the curve of Taeyong’s smile more genuine. When he still doesn’t say anything that Taeyong can understand, he just sits down anyways.

On the other side of the table, Yuta is (badly) hiding a smile behind his hand. Taeil and Johnny openly stare, confusion written all over their faces.

Taeyong sets about peeling open his clementine and ignores their stares. “So,” he says casually, “Did anyone do that math homework?”

And just like that, things are return to normal.

Jaehyun downs a gulp of water, his face still suspiciously red, but Johnny reaches into his backpack and pulls out a thick notebook. “I have it.” He says, sliding it down the table for Taeyong to copy.

Taeyong grabs Jaehyun’s water when he puts it down. He raises his eyebrows in a silent question, and when Jaehyun nods, completely stunned, he takes a sip. He does this with Taeil all the time, but Jaehyun looks like he’s one second away from spontaneously combusting.

“Anyways,” Taeil says, continuing the conversation he’d been having with Yuta before Taeyong had sat down, “I think that Godzilla would beat King Kong easily.”

In the midst of the debate revamping, with Dongyoung taking a particularly passionate stance on King Kong, while Yuta places his bet on Godzilla (“It’s not because I’m Japanese,” he insists), Taeyong catches Jaehyun’s eyes on him. He grins, rolling his eyes at the others. After a second, Jaehyun returns it with a small smile of his own.

-

It takes some time, but Taeyong manages to stay true to his promise. He finds that Jaehyun is much more bearable when he’s not doing his best to avoid and resist him.

He’s not ready to welcome the Alpha with open arms or anything, but they’re slowly but surely understanding each other more. Taeyong no longer spits out his words when he speaks to Jaehyun.

It’s slow progress, but it’s progress nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just out of curiosity, do yall think i should write some side stories to this fic?? like tenny or some other ships, random drabbles, etc


	5. Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yuhh so theres some underage nsfw stuff in this chapter and honestly i tried not to make it like?? sexy/smutty i just thought it was necessary for plot progression so if its not your cup of tea you'll know when its coming so feel free to skip it (they dont actually have sex btw!!)

Taeyong stares at himself in the mirror. All the other Omegas he knows have begun rounding out, hips and thighs thick. He can’t miss the way the Alphas and Betas have begun staring at Taeil and Ten.

Him, though. Taeyong’s always been on the lanky side to begin with, and he just seems to be getting skinnier. He turns to the side. No butt in sight. His thighs are long and slim, unshapely, and when he lifts the hem of his hoodie, he can see the faint outline of his ribs. It’s not like he doesn’t eat- his mother often complains about how often she has to go shopping for groceries because of his appetite, and he’s always had a sweet tooth. He’s simply built that way.

He's never seen another omega with this body type. It makes him feel self-conscious, wary of the bones in his wrist when Taeil reaches out and grabs it, uncomfortable when Ten sits on his lap and complains about how his bony knees and thighs are hurting his backside.

Even his Beta sister’s thicker at the thighs and hips than he is- although, she is six months pregnant now, so it really doesn’t count- but Taeyong smooths a hand down the ridges of his ribs nonetheless, his fingers catching on every dip.

He knows that taking suppressants can change how an Omegas body develops.

He’s been thinking about stopping taking his suppressants for a while now. Some months he’s left feeling nauseous around when his heat should be hitting, and others he feels restless without reason, skin feeling stretched too tight over his body.

He’s not sure how to bring it up to his parents, though. Taeyong’s always felt awkward talking to his mother about things pertaining specifically to Omegas. She’s a Beta, and a busy one at that, and so he always feels a little out of place trying to explain things to her.

Still, he’d much rather talk about being taken off suppressants with her than his father, who doesn’t like reminders of his son’s status.

He brings it up one day when she’s busy with paperwork, sitting at the dining table surrounded by heavy files and folders. “What do you think of me going off my suppressants?”

She looks up, startled to see him. “Oh, Taeyong, when did you come in?” She mumbles, returning to the document in front of her.

“My suppressants,” he presses, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Is that a good idea?” She asks. As she speaks, she waves around the pen in her hand to accentuate her points. “You’ve been on them for so long, what if it has some kind of adverse effect? What if you can’t manage a heat? Should we call the Jungs?”

“No!” Taeyong immediately snaps. At his mother’s confusion, he hurriedly adds, “We don’t have to bother them with it. I can just let Jaehyun know myself.” Of course, he has no intention of doing this, but a little white lie never hurts when his mother’s controlling personality is involved.

She presses her lips together and tugs on a strand of perfectly dyed hair. “I guess it’s fine then. You know best, honey.”

Taeyong would continue speaking, but she’s already turning back to her work, thoroughly absorbed in the thick cardstock on the table instead of her son in the doorway.

Taeyong should have known it would be this easy.

-

Taeyong’s first ever heat coincides with one of his parents’ many business trips. This particular one happens to be to Singapore about opening another branch of their company there, and while his mother frets over leaving him alone for it, he insists he’ll be fine.

“I’m fifteen,” he tells her gently when the worry doesn’t leave her eyes, “I’ll be okay by myself. Besides, every book I’ve read said that it’s much easier if you’ve found a soulmate, so I should be fine.”

Of course, the books also imply that the heat should be spent _with_ one’s soulmate, but Taeyong doesn’t want to tell her that in case she gets some crazy ideas about calling Jaehyun and telling him.

After his parents leave for the airport, Taeyong throws away the rest of his suppressants for the month. According to the website he’d found while researching, it should take up to two days for his body to react to the lack of suppressants, triggering a heat.

Taeyong holes himself in his room to wait.

At first, it’s nothing. He doesn’t feel any different. No burning sensation, no stomach aches, no going out of his mind.

He spends his time cleaning his room and straightening out the rest of the house, sweeping the same spotless floors over and over. It’s annoying to have to wait it out like this.

But then, it hits all at once.

He goes to bed feverish that night, the tips of his fingers and toes numb. He wraps the blanket tighter around himself and wonders why he’s so cold when it’s supposed to be a _heat_. Everything feels like he’s watching it through water- slightly distorted, and it makes his head spin.

He drifts in and out of sleep all night long, restlessness jerking him awake right when he’s about to slip off to sleep, and when he finally gets some rest, he’s awoken less than an hour later, covered in sweat and shivering.

His hair’s matted down now, and his skin’s clammy all over. He’s flushed, sweat beading along his hairline, breathe coming heavily. Taeyong kicks off the blanket that’s suffocating him and sits upright.

It doesn’t hurt, which is what he’d expected. Every atom of his body feels as if it’s been lit aflame, heat licking up his spine and at the bottom of his stomach.

He’s sweating profusely, and Taeyong cringes when he realizes the blankets are ruined from it. He stumbles out of bed, legs shaking and weak, and manages to make it to the bathroom, stripping off his shorts and shirt along the way. He cranks the shower on and steps under the icy flow immediately.

Usually, Taeyong showers under water so hot that his skin turns pink under the spray, but right now his sense of perception must be malfunctioning because not even the coldest setting is helping to relieve the fire burning away at the pit of his belly.

It’s not only the feeling of being burned alive, but also the deep-rooted desire that takes hold of him when he’s like this. Taeyong’s been mildly aroused before, but this is throbbing, aching need that shakes him down to the molten core.

It’s so insistent, pulsing inside him in a way that turns unbearable quickly. He closes his eyes, and all he can think about is _AlphaAlphaAlpha_.

How Jaehyun smells, how Jaehyun’s arms feel wrapped around him, Jaehyun’s dimples, Jaehyun’s long slender hands, his thin fingers, the veins in his arms, his biceps, oh god, his biceps- Taeyong’s knees are too weak to support him.

He winds up leaning against the cold tile wall of the shower, but even the freezing tiles do little to bring relief to his overheated skin. He’s panting for breath, feeling utterly overexerted and out of lung capacity, one hand around his dick, the other pressed to his mouth to keep in the embarrassing noises threatening to escape.

He’d thought it would be uncomfortable, but this. This is _humiliating_. His legs are shaking badly, stomach churning as his hand speeds up on his cock, and he cums trying to stifle sobs into his palm, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Taeyong doesn’t bother drying off, just stumbles to his bed, picking his phone up as drop down on the mattress. His insides feel like they’ve liquified, the tear tracks on his cheeks drying as he dials with shaking fingers.

He’s halfway gone already, mindless with the urge to seek out Jaehyun. The phone rings once, twice, before Jaehyun’s smooth voice comes on the other line. “Hello?”

Taeyong can’t stop the moan that bubbles out of his mouth, a loud and embarrassing noise. “Taeyong?” Jaehyun says, caution dripping off the words, “Are you okay?”

“No,” Taeyong says, his voice quaking along with the rest of him, “I need you, please, I need you _now_.”

He hangs up then, mind too muddled to speak coherently anymore. He presses a hand to his aching head, rubbing his temples.

Taeyong hates feeling dirty more than anything, and this tops the cake of disgusting things. His entire body is covered in sweat and his thighs are trembling, the insides covered with slick, clear fluid.

Taeyong dozes for an indefinite amount of time- his sense of time is so off, he could be laying here for days or minutes, he doesn’t seem to know the difference right now. His entire body throbs, both in pain and desire, and he wonders if this is ever going to end.

Some time later, there’s a knock at the front door of the house. Taeyong can’t force his body to make it that far, not when he’s so far gone. After a couple minutes, the knocking stops, and then there’s a scent that makes his entire body feel like it’s being set on fire all over again.

Jaehyun. Inside his house.

His blood is singing, telling him to call out to Jaehyun, to find refuge in his arms, but the sane part of his brain is panicking, afraid of what’s going to happen if Jaehyun finds him like this.

“Tae?” Jaehyun knocks on his bedroom door, his voice hesitant, but Taeyong can feel his desire and self-restraint. Jaehyun smells so good on the other side of the door, so thick and warm and _Alpha_ , it makes Taeyong’s throat close up with how bad he wants.

When Taeyong responds, his voice comes out tiny and timid. “The books never told me it would hurt.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Jaehyun sighs, and somehow, Taeyong knows that he’s sliding down the door, sitting on the floor in front of it, his back against the wall. He feels…strange. Closer to Jaehyun than he’s ever been before, like he can feel every one of the Alpha’s movements as well as his own.

 _Yes_ , his instincts urge, _open the door and breathe in the scent of him._

Taeyong opens the door.

Jaehyun’s on him in a second, arms wrapped so tightly around him that it’s hard to breath. The saliva in Taeyong’s mouth thickens as the raw, unfiltered scent permeates the air. He feels like one half of a magnet, inevitably being dragged towards the other.

Jaehyun’s just holding him, but just that simple act feels so intimate that Taeyong’s stomach is already pulsing with need again, his cock hard against Jaehyun’s thigh.

Taeyong’s not the only one overtaken by instinct, though. Jaehyun presses him down into the bed, noses into his neck and licks the sweat from there, moaning thickly when Taeyong surges up clumsily to wrap his legs around the Alpha’s thigh.

Even this unsteady frantic motion feels so good that Taeyong’s nearly crazed with it, rutting up against Jaehyun’s thigh until he arches up, the feeling too utterly unbearable, and cums again, this time clawing at Jaehyun’s shoulders and crying his name. It takes Jaehyun less than a minute to follow, gasping against Taeyong’s neck.

Only when they’re both trying to catch their breath, chests rising and falling rapidly, does the actuality of the situation set in.

“Oh my god,” Taeyong says, his mind temporarily clearing of the lust-driven fog that had overtaken him, “Fuck. Oh my god.”

His dick is still throbbing, but the need is distant enough that he can think. “What are we going to do?” He asks, distress making its way into his voice.

Jaehyun blanches at the sound, oversensitive to Taeyong’s emotions. “What do you want to do?”

“Die.”

Jaehyun doesn’t smile. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.” Taeyong sits up, wincing when everything aches. He moves closer, pressing into the heat of Jaehyun’s body. He smells so _good_ , Taeyong’s insides feel like they’re going to melt right out of his body. He grabs one of Jaehyun’s hands, brings it to his mouth, licking at his fingertips before he can help it.

Jaehyun’s breath quickens again, and Taeyong takes his fingers deeper into his mouth, tongue swirling around the pads of his fingers. “Taeyong,” Jaehyun says shakily. “Taeyong, I-“

“It _hurts_ ,” Taeyong whines, dropping his hand and burrowing back into his neck. “Don’t do anything, just-, just let me do this.”

It feels good to simply be held, to even be in Jaehyun’s proximity. Taeyong’s shuddering all over, sticky skin startlingly warm against Jaehyun’s cool hands when he carefully presses them to Taeyong’s hips, pushing him down against the bed and sitting up.

For a minute, they stay like that; Taeyong flat against the bed, his chest heaving with gasps, cock hard against his stomach, Jaehyun leaning over him, eyes scanning his face. Finally, Jaehyun says, “Let me touch you.”

Taeyong’s half delirious, but his body’s working on instinct alone, crawling into Jaehyun’s lap, arching against him with a cry when his hand wraps around his dick. Jaehyun’s hands are clumsy, but Taeyong’s so oversensitive that it feels good anyways, his hips moving languidly to fuck up into the circle of his fist.

It takes him an embarrassingly short amount of time to get hard again when Jaehyun’s body is wrapped around his, the heady scent of him arousing Taeyong until he winds up grinding down against Jaehyun’s lap, hips moving of their own accord.

Taeyong’s thighs are wet on the inside when Jaehyun’s hand slides between them, and it must surprise him because he recoils immediately, eyes wide.

“I’ll do it,” Taeyong snaps, because he knows Jaehyun wouldn’t.

He’s only tried this a handful of times before, but those had all been by himself in the midst of the night, coaxing out an orgasm or two. This is more intense, and when the pads of his fingers brush against his hole, he has to squeeze his lips together to keep an embarrassing noise from escaping past them.

Jaehyun is carefully stroking his dick again, lower lip caught between his teeth in concentration, long fingers working to coax another orgasm out of Taeyong.  “Alpha,” Taeyong gasps because he can’t help himself, “Alpha, feels so good.”

Taeyong knows he’s crying, both from frustration and oversensitivity, and he’s kind of humiliated to be in this state in front of Jaehyun, but the haze of lust in his mind doesn’t let him think too deeply about it when he’s so frenzied.

Taeyong loses his grip on reality very soon, too caught up in his emotions and the way Jaehyun’s body around his makes him feel.

It’s a strange feeling, to be so lost inside himself that he doesn’t know where he ends and Jaehyun starts. There’s no sense of time or space here. Only the awareness of Jaehyun’s arms holding him, of hurting and feeling good at the same time, of safety and panic warring inside him.

Taeyong’s sense of consciousness emerges at the most random times. While Jaehyun’s calling his mother and informing her of the situation, Taeyong’s mind is crystal clear and he’s picking up around the room, stripping down the filthy sheets and replacing them with towels when he realizes he doesn’t have any of the special sheets designed for heats. He fills up on water and leftovers, and even manages to start on the dishes before he’s lost again.

Another round of heat and deliriousness hits him then, and he spends the next hour crying in Jaehyun’s arms about how much it hurts, three fingers buried knuckle deep inside himself.

And so, the first heat passes with two days of this.

-

Wednesday morning, Taeyong wakes up disoriented, but with no fire smoldering away under his skin. His bed’s empty except for him, but the pillows smell like Jaehyun.

The events of the past two days hit him in waves of nausea and shame. He remembers crying, Jaehyun’s hand on his dick, and saying things that would make even Ten blush. He’s _angry_. He hates himself and he hates Jaehyun and he hates being an Omega, but most of all he hates that he couldn’t help himself, that he’d mindlessly been seeking pleasure without any thought of the repercussions.

He feels wrong in his own skin, too big and too small for his surroundings all at once. He’s limping a little when he makes his way to the shower, washing off almost three days’ worth of sweat and cum and god knows what. He’s never felt this filthy in his life.

 _Everything is fine_ , he tries to reason with himself. _Everything will be fine if you stay calm_. And for the four minutes it takes him to get downstairs after his shower, that mindset works.

Except for one miniscule, brown haired, six-foot-tall fact. Jaehyun hasn’t left.

He’s sitting in the kitchen, rubbing at his drowsy eyes and eating robotically, bringing the chopsticks up to his mouth again and again.

Taeyong’s hit with another sudden bout of shame, and Jaehyun turns when he feels the echo of it.

“Taeyong,” he breathes, tired eyes widening.

And just like that, the shaky, careful bridge they’ve spent the last year building collapses in on itself.

“Get _out_ ,” He spits, and Jaehyun flinches back physically at the poison behind the words. “Get out of my fucking house.”

Jaehyun gets to his feet, holding his hands up in front of him passively. “But,” he begins, but Taeyong’s already stammering, “I-I didn’t know what I was saying, I didn’t _want_ you here.”

He’s well aware that he’s crying again, salty tears streaming down his newly clean face, but he can’t care when Jaehyun’s still fucking _here_ after all of that. He’s all strung out, aching down to the bone from all the exertion, wallowing in his shame, but Jaehyun’s still sitting around like they just had a fucking picnic, and it makes Taeyong sick to his stomach.

“I-“ Jaehyun’s lower lip wobbles in its telltale way, and Taeyong knows he’s going to cry before the first tear falls. “I’m sorry, Taeyong, I’m so sorry. When you called you sounded so-“

They’re both just standing, frozen in space, crying because neither of them can find the words they need, and it’s just so _awful_ in that minute.

Taeyong clenches his fist at his side so tight that his nails bite into the meat of his palm. “Please,” he grits out, too ashamed to even look at up the younger boy. He’s staring at his feet, at the red and black striped socks Taeil had given him. “I’m too embarrassed to talk or look at you. Please don’t make me say it again. Just get out.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jaehyun nod tightly, and then, wiping at his eyes, he turns and mumbles, “I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”

Only when the front door shuts behind the Alpha does Taeyong let his shaking knees collapse, sinking to the cold kitchen floor.

-                      

Taeyong never wants to show his face at school after what happened, but he drags himself out of bed the next day and forces himself down the stairs.

The aching sensation has subsided, leaving the oddest sense of weightlessness inside him. He feels strangely rejuvenated for someone who spent the past three days crying and fucking himself on his fingers.

He decides that one heat is one too many. After being equal parts disgusted and uncomfortable all day, he’d called his doctor and demanded an emergency dosage of suppressants, ready to go back on them. He won’t get them until his parents are back next week, but he thinks he can hold out until then.

When he gets to school, he realizes that their friends can tell how different he smells.

Outwardly, no one reacts in a major way, but Taeyong sees the way Johnny stiffens the second he walks up to them, the way Taeil and Ten recoil, how Dongyoung leans in unconsciously. Taeyong rubs a self-conscious hand across the back of his neck and says, “Hey, guys.”

What else can one say after disappearing for three days?

There’s a chorus of greetings that come a bit too late, and Taeyong keeps standing, uncomfortable.

“You look nice today.” Dongyoung says after another awkward second.

Taeyong shifts restlessly from one foot to the other, fingers twisted in the bottom of his shirt. “Thanks.” He says finally, because he doesn’t know how else to respond. He wants to tell Dongyoung that he looks the same as always, he just _seems_ more attractive to the Beta because of the pheromones, but he holds his tongue.

Another strained minute passes, and Taeyong can’t decide whether he should sit down or not. Jaehyun’s sitting on the other end of the table next to Dongyoung and Taeil, and he hasn’t looked up once.

Abruptly, Johnny runs a hand through his hair and says, “So, I’ve been thinking about getting my ears pierced. What do you guys think?”

Taeyong releases a deep breath, lets his shoulders relax, and slides into the seat next to Johnny, who gives him a tiny half-smile. “I think you’d look great with an ear piercing.” Taeyong says honestly. “You should ask Ten to help you do it.”

Ten, who suddenly looks partly like he wants to help into a puddle and partly like he’s about to spontaneously combust, manages to nod shallowly. “I can do it for you,” He agrees.

“I’m sure there’s a lot of things he could do for you.” Taeil mutters under his breath, and Ten screeches in embarrassment, laugher breaking out all around the table, and for the moment, everything is back to chaotic normality.

Taeyong nudges Johnny with his shoulder in thanks, and Johnny gently squeezes his knee under the table in response.

-

After getting it together with his friends, Taeyong expects the rest of the day to flow smoothly.

Of course, because he has the worst luck Possibly Ever™, he runs into another conflict at the beginning of lunch.

The crowded halls are thinning as people relocate to their lunch spots, and Taeyong is waiting for Mark to put his books away. He’s leaning against some of the other lockers when someone brushes past, tall and unmistakably Alpha. As he passes, he mutters something that Taeyong has to strain to catch; _slut_.

Taeyong’s blood goes cold. Anger rises up inside him along with the shame of knowing that he can’t keep it a secret. He knows he smells like Jaehyun and like the heat fading off his body, and how many different ways that can be interpreted even if they hadn’t actually slept together.

Taeyong’s frozen in place and unsure of whether or not to say anything, but Mark is already spinning on his heels, demanding in a loud voice, “What did you just say?”

The Alpha turns around slowly, cold eyes sweeping over Mark’s narrow frame. Taeyong shrinks under his dark gaze, but Mark crosses his arms, unimpressed.

“I said,” the Alpha says, stalking over to spit the words into Mark’s face, “Your friend is a _slut_.”

Taeyong realizes several things at once. Mark is barely fourteen, and half a head shorter than the Alpha. Mark is also made up of sheer willpower and stubbornness, and he doesn’t back down easily. The Alpha has the kind of arrogant face that makes it obvious he’s not going to let it go. There’s no way this is going to end well.

Mark’s eyes are stormy, unyielding. The guy laughs, brash and conceited. “A shameless Omega bi-,”

Mark’s fist lands on his cheek before he can finish, and there’s the sickening thump of flesh on flesh, and the Alpha’s reeling back, holding his hand over his face. He blinks as if in disbelief, staring at Mark.  Taeyong feels panic rise up in his throat as the guy takes a step forward, looming over Mark.

A crowd of curious students is building up and Taeyong knows that a teacher’s going to come break this up immediately. “Mark,” he says urgently, finally finding his voice, “Mark, don’t.”

But Mark isn’t listening. He’s still glaring at the guy, who says, “Is that the best you can do? Beta bitch,” and promptly decks him in the face.

Mark’s still short, physically narrow and boyish. He’s thrown back against a locker, clutching at his face. He crumples to the ground with a cry that makes Taeyong’s chest clench painfully.

“What’s going on?” A biting voice cuts in.

Taeyong looks up from where he’s crouched next to Mark and sharp relief hits him. Johnny and Ten, thank fucking god. Johnny squares up to his full height, (which, Taeyong admits, is impressively even taller than the other Alpha) and repeats the question.

Mark says through a split lip, “It’s fine. Let’s get going before the teachers get involved.”

“Like hell it’s fine!” Taeyong exclaims, carefully pulling Mark’s hand off his face. “You’re bleeding all over your fucking shirt, don’t say it’s fine.”

Ten squats down next to Taeyong, gently takes his arm and murmurs, “Can you take Mark to the nurse? Johnny and I’ll deal with this.”

If Johnny says anything else, Taeyong misses it as he helps Mark up and follows him to the school nurse’s office. Johnny’s calm disposition and Ten’s quick tongue work wonders to deflate situations.

Mark, on the other hand, is still fired up from the encounter.

“Can you believe that guy?” he demands, the words slightly distorted by his swollen bleeding lip, “What an asshole.”

“He’s an Alpha,” Taeyong says quietly.

“That doesn’t give him the right to be a dick? Jaehyun hyung and Johnny hyung are Alphas too, and it’s not like they would ever go around saying shit like that.” Mark knocks on the office door hard, his face still set in a grim expression.

While the nurse flutters around and worries over Mark, Taeyong sits in one of the hard-plastic chairs in the corner of the room and watches him ice his lip, wincing when the nurse cleans the cut.

“You shouldn’t have called him out,” Taeyong mumbles, “It’s not like he was going to apologize. You could have avoided getting hurt.”

“And let him talk to you like that?” Mark asks incredulously, “Are you kidding, Yongie hyung? No one gets to talk shit like that and get away with it.”

The nurse clicks her tongue when he curses, but he shoots her an unimpressed look. “He better get in trouble for what he did.”

Taeyong finds out later that the Alpha had not, in fact, gotten in trouble. He and Mark both get off with a warning, and, after promising not to fight again, they’re let loose without so much as a detention.

“It’s bullshit,” Jaehyun says when Mark walks out of the administration office still clutching an ice pack to his face. “It was that guy’s fault and the teachers know it.”

“Mark threw the first punch.” Ten says listlessly, not looking up from where he’s petting Taeyong’s hair. They’re all spread out and laying on the lawn of the school for the rest of their lunch period, Taeyong’s head in Ten’s lap, Jaehyun curled up under the shade of a tree, Dongyoung on his stomach over the tree roots.

“But that guy provoked him,” Dongyoung argues, stretching an arm out to tap Johnny’s side where he’s laying in the sun. “Doesn’t it matter that he provoked him?”

Johnny doesn’t open his eyes but he mutters, “There’s no point in arguing about it now, is there? They both got off with no punishment, so we should just be thankful there weren’t any consequences for Mark.”

“It was worth it.” Mark says. “I got to defend Taeyong hyung’s honor, and I got to throw my first punch.”

Taeyong frowns. “I could have defended my own honor.”

“Of course you could have, honey,” Ten soothes, his nimble fingers pulling through Taeyong’s hair, nails scraping his scalp gently, “But you didn’t, which is why Mark felt the need to.”

The whole situation doesn’t sit well with Taeyong. He’d been frozen in place again, unable to defend himself against the abuse of an Alpha, and he’s angry at himself for it.

Still, he’s happy to see the Alpha’s cheek swollen and bruised where Mark had hit him when he comes to school the next day.

-

School passes more or less uneventfully from then on for the next couple months. Taeyong goes back on his suppressants, and if any of his friends notice, they don’t say anything.

Ten, who’s never taken a suppressant in his life, goes through his first heat, and comes out of it feeling much happier than Taeyong. “It really wasn’t that bad for me,” he says, grinning the next day. His had only been a day and a half, and he’d spent it comfortably alternating between his bed and the shower. Taeyong tries to tell himself he’s not jealous.

The months blur together and middle school graduation approaches quickly. Mark realizes he needs to make friends in his own grade and picks up a tiny Omega named Donghyuck with the sweetest voice Taeyong’s ever heard.

Everything is monotonous for once, and Taeyong prefers it that way.

 -

However, it doesn’t stay like that. 

Towards the end of the school year, Taeyong is sitting in his seat by the window, daydreaming about the end of class when the office secretary rushes into his classroom.

She says his name, and Ten glances back at him with confusion written all over his face. Taeyong shrugs, then raises his hand to get her attention.

“The office is sending for you,” the secretary says, her half-moon spectacles glinting in the harsh fluorescent school lights. “Come with me right now.”

Taeyong’s mind scrambles to remember every delinquent thing he’s done in the past year, but he manages to come up with nothing. He generally stays out of trouble at school.

However, when he gets to the office, Jaehyun is waiting for him.

They haven’t really talked since Taeyong’s first heat, but that had been months ago. Taeyong’s been too embarrassed to even look him in the face, and Jaehyun’s too polite to bring it up when he knows how upset Taeyong is about the whole thing. He and Jaehyun have both done their best to pretend like nothing had gone down to keep their friend group intact.

As soon as he spots Taeyong, though, he asks, “What’s happening?”

Taeyong shrugs silently, wondering what the both of them could have in common other than being soulmates.

They sit in the office for another ten or so minutes, silent in adjacent chairs.

“Mom?” Jaehyun says eventually, and as his mother comes rushing in, Taeyong’s reminded of another time, back when he’d been ten and they’d discovered their bond for the first time. Another waiting room, another crisis, another time.

Jaehyun’s mother’s smile is the same.

“Your sister,” she grins at him, “Your mother called me as soon as she could. The school’s the opposite way from the hospital so I told her I’d come pick you up.”

At first, Taeyong doesn’t understand. He puts together the words _sister, mother,_ and _hospital_. His first thought is an accident, but then he remembers. His sister, who’s so pregnant she looks like she’s about to burst.

-

The ride to the hospital passes quickly with Jaehyun next to him, telling him quietly that everything will be alright.

“Childbirth happens every day,” he says when Taeyong’s nerves flutter in both their stomachs. “Nothing’s going to happen other than her having a baby.”

Taeyong’s not worried about that, though. He’s sure the hospital is high tech enough that childbirth should be relatively easy. He’s more worried about the baby’s first test.

Alpha, Beta, or Omega.

With their family’s hereditary history, it should be foolproof that her baby’s either an Alpha or Beta, the dominant traits, but that had been said about Taeyong before he’d been born as well.

Taeyong hopes for the baby’s sake that she’s a Beta like both her parents. Being Beta means an easier life.

The hospital makes Taeyong uneasy. He doesn’t like the clinical, clean white walls and the nurses running about. It seems too chaotic for a place of healing. Jaehyun’s mother had gone back to work, so Jaehyun accompanies Taeyong up to the desk, and when his voice shakes too much to ask the receptionist, Jaehyun gives Taeyong’s sister’s name and finds the room number. In the elevator, calmness drifts off Jaehyun in waves, and for that, Taeyong’s thankful. If he tries very hard, Jaehyun’s unshakeable serenity feels like his own.

They’re told to wait outside the delivery room, but Taeyong’s restless. He can’t sit in the hard metal chairs set up in the waiting room, instead choosing to pace from one end of the room to the other.

Eventually, the tension gets to be too much. Jaehyun stands up, grabs him by the hand, and says, “Calm _down_.” Immediately, Taeyong stops his pacing, staring with wide eyes at where their hands are connected.

Jaehyun lets go, clearing his throat and taking a step back. “Listen,” He says after a beat, “I know I’m not the most ideal person to have here, and I know you probably want nothing to do with me, but I want you to know you can depend on us. Not just me, but Mark and Johnny and Taeil and everyone else.”

Taeyong ducks his head, tries to conceal the blush spreading up his cheeks. “I know,” he says, drawing his arms to his chest.

Jaehyun sighs, goes back to his chair, and neatly tucks his feet under it.

After a second of silence, Taeyong sits down next to him.

“It’s not like that.” Taeyong admits quietly.

“Like what?”

“You know like what.”

“I really don’t.” Jaehyun’s eyes are dark, burning into his. “Enlighten me.”

Taeyong pulls his feet up onto the chair. He chews contemplatively on his thumb- his nail biting habit’s been fluctuating for years, and lately his nail beds have been wrecked. Finally, he says, “It’s not like I hate it when you guys do things for me. I just don’t like feeling helpless.”

“Do we make you feel helpless?” Jaehyun’s fiddling with the strings of his hoodie, nimble fingers twirling them around and around.

Before Taeyong can respond, the waiting room doors open, and his mother comes out, a surgical mask over her face.

Taeyong springs to his feet, all but running up to her.

“You can’t go in yet.” She says to Taeyong. To Jaehyun, she inclines her head. Jaehyun nods back.

Time passes by slowly in the hospital. They sit for what feels like the whole day, even though Taeyong knows it can’t be more than an hour or so. Taeyong bites his nails down until they bleed, and his mom makes him to wash them off. Every so often, he or Jaehyun text the group chat with an update.

It’s hell waiting, but it’s worth it when Taeyong’s mother finally exits the room again, this time with a thin smile on her face, and says, “You can see her now. Both of you.”

His sister smiles up at him when he enters the room, Jaehyun following two steps behind.

Taeyong stops dead in his tracks when he sees the bundle in her arms, a tiny pink face peeking out from it. He’s so anxious, his heart hammers behind his chest, a strange feeling unfurling inside him. Behind him, Jaehyun murmurs, “Wow.”

“Do you want to hold her?” His sister asks, and panic flares up inside him. Taeyong’s never seen anyone so tiny, so delicate up close before. The squirming pink baby in her arms opens her mouth, lets out a frail wail, and Taeyong shakes his head quickly, eyes wide. His hands are much too big and clumsy.

His sister laughs, and it’s a bright and joyful sound.

Taeyong wonders why there’s such a _rightness_ within this scene. His tired but beautiful sister, her husband, and their baby, tiny and pink and squirming, still of unknown secondary gender, and his parents, his mother glowing, father proud, and still standing by the door, a little unsure of his role in all of this, Jaehyun.

And in his chest, an echo of Jaehyun’s feelings. The same sense of wonder and reverence, but his eyes are on Taeyong.


	6. Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi just letting yall know theres consensual underage sex in this chapter!!

In the grand scale of things, Taeyong realizes there are only a handful of things he is truly good at. He’s good at dancing, willowy figure following along to music like he was born to do it. He’s good at cleaning and organizing, evident from his meticulous room.

This talent though, tops the cake, according to Ten, when he yells it over the blare of music; the ability to get shit faced off of less than one glass of liquor.

Ten is downing shots to no end, his resolve unshakeable, but Taeyong had half a glass of jack and coke and is already swaying on his feet, mind pleasantly cloudy.

It’s not often they come to parties like this, but it’s the beginning of summer break and it’s already too stuffy to stay at home.

They’ve all felt strangely restless lately. Taeyong’s sister blames it on their age when he asks, and Taeyong kind of agrees. They’re just short of being independent, old enough to act like adults but too young to be treated like them.

It starts like most of their dubious ideas do; with Doyoung. The Beta had practically begged them to come along with him to one of the numerous parties he’d been invited to, and the prospect of getting drunk on cheap watery beer is better than sitting at home in the heat, so Taeyong had pulled on his skinniest jeans and allowed himself to get pulled along.

Somewhere along the way, he’d lost Johnny and Yuta to the throng of people, but he’s too intoxicated to bother to get up and find them, so he settles on being dragged around with Ten, first watching some kids in their class play a game of spin the bottle, then settling on the couch where joints are being rolled on the coffee table.

Ten and Taeyong wind up sharing a blunt, taking hits between sips of cold beer, and Taeyong feels himself grow more and more hazy with every deep inhale. It’s pleasant though, to be this muddled. There are no worries when he’s like this, all his problems lost in the vastness of the world.

Taeyong takes another hit of the joint, lets the smoke fill his lungs and cloud his consciousness.

Ten has his head on Taeyong’s shoulder, fingers tracing idle mindless shapes into his thigh, and Taeyong squirms, bats his hand away and passes him the joint.

Ten takes a deep inhale and lets his head fall back against the couch. From behind a curtain of smoke, he says, “What if we quit school and became strippers?”

“Shut up,” Taeyong snorts, slapping lightly at Ten’s thigh. His mind is hazy from the weed, hazier from the alcohol. Yuta had teased him about being a lightweight (which, yes, he is, but fuck Yuta for calling him out on it) so he’d downed shot after shot at the beginning of the night, cringing from the burn and then flashing a triumphant grin. “You couldn’t be a stripper.”

“Dongyoung!” Ten calls, lips curling into a languid smile, “Do you think I’d make a better stripper than Taeyong?”

Dongyoung looks up from the kid whose face he’s trying to eat ( _Gross_ , Taeyong thinks absently) and squints at Taeyong through the smoke. “Yeah,” he finally decides, “Taeyong looks too mean all the time to be a good stripper.”

“Fuck you,” Taeyong says easily, “You’re not fit to be a judge.”

“Fine,” Ten grins at him, wide and drunk and kind of reckless. “You and me, dance competition. Then Dongyoung can decide.” Ten screws up his face like he’s deep in thought and announces, “I need another drink before that, though.” He tilts the beer can upside down, the last stray drops falling down onto his lap. “Oops,” he giggles, brushing off his thigh.

He stands up and pulls Taeyong with him, laughing when Taeyong reels, his head spinning.

The next thing he knows, he’s downing a shot off of Ten’s stomach, the metal stud of his navel piercing cold against Taeyong’s lips.

“What did I just drink?” He yells to Ten over the pounding music, and Ten sits up, shrugs, and grabs blindly for the bottle he’d used to pour the shot. “Cherry vodka!” He shouts back.  

Ten drops the bottle back on the counter after taking a recklessly big gulp straight from it, and then he says, “Find some glasses, I wanna do shots.”

Taeyong looks around the crowded counters and finally finds a stack of plastic shot glasses next to some kid smoking a cigarette. He grabs them and watches Ten line up four, filling them up with the clear liquid. Immediately, Ten reaches for one of the glasses and neatly downs it, not even flinching from the burn.

“Taeyong,” a voice comes from behind him. Taeyong glances back, finds Jaehyun standing there, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. He looks like he just got out of the crowd of dancing people, drenched with perspiration, the front of his sleeveless shirt stuck against his skin.

It’s only because Taeyong’s eyes are sharp that they zero in on a pink smudge against Jaehyun’s throat, and it takes his inebriated brain a second to recognize it as lipstick.

“Someone’s having a good night,” Taeyong says, only the words come out a bit slurred at the edges.

“You’re drunk.” Jaehyun says flatly. “Maybe you should stop drinking. You know you pass out easily.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Taeyong’s grin is sharp on his mouth. He grabs the shot glass on the counter and throws it back and lets the warmth of the alcohol wash over him. “Fuck off,” he says with a pleasant smile. For some reason, he keeps thinking about the pink lipstick smeared against Jaehyun’s neck. It makes something flare up inside him, red and angry.

Ten tugs on his arm then, and Taeyong lets himself be jerked along. “I wanna strip,” he slurs, “It’s so hot in here.”

And for Taeyong’s alcohol-addled brain, that seems like a good idea. It is hot, and the room is so crowded that with every movement he makes, another pair of sweaty limbs brushes against him.  Behind him, Jaehyun is trailing after them, concern lining his eyes.

“Lets strip and let everyone decide who the best stripper is!” Ten exclaims, “Since you said Dongyoung isn’t reliable.”

“Okay!” Taeyong yells back, and grabs the hem of his shirt.

“Taeyong,” Jaehyun calls after him, but he’s forcing his way through the crowd too fast, ignoring the other boy’s voice. Taeyong’s going to take all his clothes off and there’s nothing Jaehyun can do about it.

“Taeyong! _Stop_.”

Taeyong freezes mid-step, a wave of nausea slamming into him.

Ten’s not pulling on his hand anymore. In fact, he lets it drop, his mouth hanging open. Taeyong knows he couldn’t take another step, even if he wanted to. For the second, Taeyong feels completely frozen in place, like he’s been slammed into a wall.

He turns very, very slowly, anger roiling up inside him. Jaehyun has his eyebrows drawn low, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Taeyong spits out, rage making his voice shake.

Jaehyun raises his hands in a gesture of surrender, but Taeyong’s too angry for it to work.

“Guys,” Ten murmurs, “You guys, don’t do this here.”

Abruptly, Taeyong is aware that the circle of people closest to them have quieted down. They’re staring, with their curious, prying eyes. Ten gently pushes them both in the direction of the stairs. “At the very least, go upstairs,” he suggests.

Taeyong squeezes his lips in a thin line and forces his temper to cool as he walks up the stairs. Ten watches him ascend and then promptly disappears into the crowd again, probably to find Taeil or Johnny to mediate.

Taeyong knows there’s no way to mediate this, though. This one is all Jaehyun’s fault.

As soon as they’re in a bedroom (there’s a couple making out on the bed. Taeyong says, “get _out_ ,” they take one look at him, and flee) Taeyong shoves Jaehyun, hard.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Taeyong seethes, “do you think you’re doing?”

Jaehyun straightens his back, raises his eyebrows and has the audacity to look affronted. “You can’t have expected me to do nothing when you’re off your ass wasted and trying to do stupid shit like that.”

“Yes, I would have!” Taeyong shouts, and Jaehyun takes a step backwards. Good. “I don’t want _anything_ from you! I don’t want you to help me, I don’t want you to act like some fucking knight in shining armor, and I don’t want you to act like you’re doing me any favors by getting involved in my business! Why do you have to be so difficult?”

“ _You’re_ not the easiest soulmate to have either, you fucking stubborn asshole!” Jaehyun explodes, “You always act so high and mighty, like I had a choice in this and you didn’t- well news flash, I didn’t have a choice either!”

Taeyong’s never seen Jaehyun this angry before. He’s seen the Alpha annoyed, hurt, and upset, but never real, raw anger. And it surprises him.

Jaehyun’s voice is meant to be a soft, comforting thing, full of honeyed words and poetry. The venom he spits from his mouth now is so inherently wrong coming from him that Taeyong has to do a double take before he can respond.

“Then why do you always act like a fucking saint?” Taeyong demands, standing on his toes to meet Jaehyun eye to eye, “Following me around like a stray dog, acting like you’re pitying me.”

“Because I’m a good human being?” Jaehyun laughs mirthlessly, “Am I so wrong for trying to make it work? To at least try and be friends?”

“You’re not trying to be friends anymore. You’ve been wanting to fuck me since you smelled my first heat, haven’t you?” Taeyong says, accusatory eyes on Jaehyun.

“Fuck you?” Jaehyun’s face goes through several emotions consecutively; confusion, disbelief, anger, and finally settles on the look Taeyong hates on him most: sadness.

“Don’t you _dare_ pity me like that, Jung Jaehyun.” Taeyong says, red hot anger rising up the back of his neck. “Not after you used your… your _Alpha Voice_ on me in front of everyone when you knew I wouldn’t be able to resist it.”

The type of control exerted over him is one that has always sickened him to think about; the fact that an Alpha can technically make their Omega do anything, if they try hard enough. Taeyong thinks it’s twisted to think about using it on someone else, much less that Jaehyun would ever exert that much power over him, and in front of a crowd of all places.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Jaehyun fires back, “I was panicking, and it slipped out. You _know_ I wouldn’t do that to you on purpose.”

“But you did anyways, didn’t you?” Taeyong knows he’s about to cry- his eyes are stinging, angry tears brimming along his lash line, fists shaking where they’re clenched at his sides. “You did it in front of _everyone_. You humiliated me.” His voice breaks over the last sentence, turning into a sob midway. “I can’t be my own person or make my own choices because of you? What, did you want to see how much power you had over me? Congratulations, you made a worthless omega bitch submit to you in front of everyone.”

“T-Taeyong,” Jaehyun stammers, “You know I didn’t, that I _wouldn’t_ -“

“You already did!” Taeyong shouts brokenly, and Jaehyun flinches at his tone of voice.

Jaehyun presses his lips into a thin line. Taeyong’s trying his hardest to keep in the shaky sobs building up his throat.

Finally, Jaehyun sighs, long and drawn out, and says in a softer voice, “I’m sorry, okay? I’m really fucking sorry. I didn’t think it would come out like that. If I could take it back, I would. Tell me what I can do to make it right.”

“What could you do? Let me humiliate you in front of all those people? They’d come after me for being another bitchy Omega. What could you give me? There’s nothing.” Taeyong scoffs.

Jaehyun bites his lip. He shifts from foot to foot, staring everywhere but Taeyong. “I-I could give you…” he trails off, but when he looks up, Taeyong isn’t sure if it’s because of their connection, but he knows exactly what Jaehyun is implying.

“Would you, Jaehyun? Would you let me fuck you?” Taeyong pushes and pushes, waiting for the minute Jaehyun will break.

It never comes.

Jaehyun looks down at him, so much sincerity shining in his eyes that Taeyong has to look away, and he says, “I would.”

Jaehyun takes his chin between his slender fingers, turning his face to Taeyong has no choice but to look him in the eyes, and when it’s just short of unbearable, Jaehyun leans in and kisses him.

Taeyong’s thought about this before, over and over, but in his mind, it’s always repulsive, full of disgust and dissatisfaction. In reality, Jaehyun kisses him chastely, like a promise of what is to come, his lips soft against Taeyong’s chapped ones.

His mouth molds to Taeyong’s perfectly, like they were made for it, (which, when Taeyong thinks about it, they were) and then he’s sliding his hand down Taeyong’s neck to curl his hot palm around the nape of Taeyong’s neck.

It’s a tangled, messy kind of kiss; one that leaves Taeyong gasping for air, his hands clawing at Jaehyun to pull him closer, fingers scrabbling for purchase in his thin shirt.

“Not-“ Jaehyun manages to breathe between kisses, “Not here. Let me take you home.”

Taeyong hates the shiver the words send down his spine, a spike of arousal immediately running through him. He pulls back from their embrace and nods once, tightly.

Time seems to blur as Jaehyun takes him by the hand, pulling him through the crowd of people to the door. On the doorstep, Taeyong fumbles in his pocket for his keys. Instantly, Jaehyun grabs them out of his hand. “You’re not driving when you’re this drunk.” He says flatly.

Taeyong reluctantly gets into the passenger seat of his car, and Jaehyun climbs into the driver’s. He knows Jaehyun doesn’t have his license yet, but when he voices his concern, Jaehyun rolls his eyes and says, “My house is the street over, don’t worry about it.”

Taeyong rests his buzzing head against the cool glass window while Jaehyun drives, and it helps to calm his nerves a bit.

“Taeyong?” Jaehyun asks, voice softening. Oh. The car’s stopped in front of his Jaehyun’s house. Taeyong hasn’t been here in over a year. They usually prefer to go to Yuta or Taeil’s houses when they hang out.

Jaehyun’s staring at him with uncertainty in his dark eyes. The fire in them has died down into a calm smolder, and Taeyong finds that his own anger has gradually cooled as well, leaving apprehensiveness in its wake.

He takes a deep breath. “Are your parents home?”

Jaehyun runs a hand through his sweaty hair and shakes his head. “They went to my aunt’s house. They’ll probably be back later tonight.”

The circumstances feel too convenient, Taeyong thinks as they make their way into Jaehyun’s empty house. The wood floorboards creak under Taeyong’s feet as he walks up the stairs, anticipation thrumming in his belly. Is it fate that they’re uninterrupted?

Before Taeyong has time to see how Jaehyun’s room has changed from the last time he was here, he’s being pushed against the back of the door, Jaehyun slanting their lips together again, kissing him fuller, deeper than before, arms coming to rest on Taeyong’s hips.

Taeyong kisses him all the way to the bed, breaks only to ask, “Do you have lube?” and Jaehyun nods eagerly, digging around in his desk drawer until he finds a tiny bottle.

Taeyong knows how this works in theory, even if he’s never done it before. He helps Jaehyun pull off his jeans, unbuttons his own and throws his shirt over his head.

He should feel self-conscious, like he always has about his body, but his mind is still hazy from the alcohol, and he finds himself pushing Jaehyun down, knocking his legs apart with his knee.

Jaehyun’s always been on the slender side for an Alpha, too broad for an Omega, but slim enough to pass for a well-built Beta. Now that affect seems amplified, his skin pink and flushed under Taeyong’s hands, his lips swollen and bitten. His cock’s too fucking pretty, all smooth and warm when Taeyong wraps a hand around it to jerk him off a couple times. Jaehyun arches up into the touch, his breathing labored.

“Does it feel okay?” Taeyong mumbles, working his palm over Jaehyun’s dick a couple more times before letting it slip from his grasp.

Jaehyun nods, his eyes shut tight. Taeyong takes that as a good sign and squeezes a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, not hesitating to smear it over Jaehyun’s ass, and Jaehyun’s jaw twitches at the feeling.

Jaehyun’s body clenches around his fingers and instinctively tries to push him out, but Taeyong ignores it and presses his fingers past the resistance. He can see how bad Jaehyun is trying, the set of his spine rigid, the veins in his neck straining. The cruelest part of Taeyong’s brain tells him to make it hurt, but even Taeyong’s not so petty.

He could count the number of Alphas who would let him do this on one hand and Taeyong’s not stupid enough to miss this chance while he has Jaehyun willingly spreading his legs. Jaehyun’s body clamps down on his knuckles again, his rim taut and pink, stretched tight around the intrusion.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, more out of curiosity than anything else. He’s only tried this on himself a handful of times besides when he’s in heat, but his body naturally opens up much easier than Jaehyun’s does.

Through grit teeth, Jaehyun manages to say, “No, keep going.”

Taeyong wonders if he should use more lube. He’s never really had to use any on himself, but Jaehyun’s lips are turning white from how tightly they’re pressed together. He slides his fingers out and Jaehyun groans. The sound makes Taeyong’s knees shake. He pours more lube onto his fingers, stretches Jaehyun open again, and this time he’s less tense.

Taeyong fucks his fingers in and out slowly, and Jaehyun takes a huge shuddery breath, the muscles in his stomach all cramping together and then apart again.

He takes his time stretching Jaehyun open, careful and slow, trying things out until Jaehyun lets out a surprisingly breathy moan and covers his mouth up with his hands, face flushing in embarrassment.

“Just, just fuck me,” he finally groans, and Taeyong hates how the words make his body heat up in anticipation. Taeyong lets Jaehyun wrap his legs around his body, pulling him closer, and lines up his dick with Jaehyun’s ass, glancing up to make sure Jaehyun’s not suddenly regretting everything, and finally, unceremoniously presses his dick in.

Taeyong shudders against his body, trying to get used to the feeling, the heat, the pressure. They’re pressed together, chest to chest, and Jaehyun’s eyes are shining with unshed tears. Whether they’re from pain or something else, Taeyong doesn’t want to know.

The first time Taeyong moves, Jaehyun gasps like the breath’s been punched out of him, fingers clutching Taeyong’s shoulders so tight that it hurts. The second time, he loops his arms around Taeyong’s neck and pulls their bodies together, his exhales tremulous.

It’s sloppy, like first times are for everything. Jaehyun doesn’t tell him what hurts and what feels good, and Taeyong cums way too quickly, gasping against Jaehyun’s mouth as Jaehyun strokes his hair, and Jaehyun doesn’t cum at all, pushing Taeyong’s hand away when he tries to jerk him off.

It’s messy and dirty and Taeyong’s itching with dried slick and sweat afterwards, but Jaehyun curls an arm around him and says in a tiny, shaky voice, “Please stay,” and he finds that he can’t bring himself to pull away.

-

Taeyong wakes up in a vaguely familiar room, the late morning summer sunlight shining on his sensitive eyes, head pounding like there’s something trapped inside it.

The events of the previous night come back to him slowly through the ache in his temple, and he stretches gingerly, loosening out his rigid muscles, pushing his disheveled hair off his face. _Jaehyun_.

The younger boy is curled up in the covers next to him, dark hair splayed out against his pillow, pink lips pushed into a little pout against  the hand under his cheek. Taeyong feels something pang inside him, confused and apprehensive.

He stumbles out of bed as carefully as he can, trying to keep silent. He pulls on the clothes from the previous night, ignoring the fact that they reek of alcohol and sweat, and is about to open the door when he hears shifting behind him on the bed.

“Yong?” Jaehyun murmurs sleepily, and when Taeyong turns around, his heart catches in his throat. Jaehyun’s hair is messy, falling over his forehead, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. He squints at Taeyong, who has a hand on the doorknob, and says, “S’wrong? Are you leaving?”

“I-“ Taeyong closes his mouth before he can say something he’ll regret. Instead, he gives a tight nod.

Jaehyun sits up straighter, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, clearing his throat a couple times. “Let me get up, I’ll make you breakfast.”

Taeyong bites the inside of his cheek hard. “No, no don’t do that.”

But Jaehyun is already standing up, clambering over to him, his long limbs not cooperating yet. He takes a step and winces, and Taeyong realizes it’s in pain. And it’s his fault. Something inside him feels like it’s falling to pieces.

“It’s fine,” Jaehyun says with a weak smile when he notices Taeyong’s expression, “I’m okay.”

Taeyong lets his hands fall to his sides. He says, “Jaehyun, _stop_.”

Jaehyun stops.

“Don’t,” he takes a deep breath, wills his voice not to shake, and tries again. “Don’t pretend like this is more than it actually was.”

It’s funny how many expressions Taeyong has seen across Jaehyun’s face in the past day. He remembers reverence, sadness, anger, and now, the broken look in Jaehyun’s eyes. Taeyong thinks this might be the one that’s burned into his memories forever.

“W-what was this to you, then?” Jaehyun asks, sounding very much like he doesn’t want to know Taeyong’s answer. “A game? Am I your plaything now? Am I a hookup?”

“If it’s easier than the alternative!” Taeyong shouts, and Jaehyun flinches at the sudden loud noise. He should have known it would end in another fight. They’re not good at anything else, apparently.

“Why did you even bother then?” Jaehyun asks, his voice rising slowly, each word biting and cold, “Why bother playing around with me when you know it hurts? That it’ll end badly for us no matter what? I didn’t ask you to do anything you’ll _regret_.”

Taeyong knows they’re going to begin shouting at each other if he doesn’t stop it now. Jaehyun is standing up straight, and Taeyong feels small and inadequate in front of him.

“I can’t _give_ you what you want!” Taeyong cries, his voice breaking over the words,

“I didn’t want anything from you in the first place.” Jaehyun’s hands are clenched into tight fists at his sides, his face turned down to the floor. “I didn’t ask you for anything.”

Taeyong laughs. It’s a mirthless, angry noise. “Maybe not with words. But these expectations, these _feelings_. I don’t want them.”

It sounds like _I don’t want you_.

Jaehyun recoils like he’d been slapped.

His face shifts, rearranges itself into a blank expression Taeyong didn’t know he was capable of. “I see.” His voice is flat, no room for hidden meanings.

Taeyong knows if he says anything now, it’s going to dissolve into tears and arguing again, so he silently pulls the door open and lets himself out of the house.

His insides feel like shattered glass, jagged and ugly, bile working its way up his throat. The bright summer morning sunlight hurts even more when he’s outside, but he pulls himself together as best he can and starts the slow drive home.

-

Escaping sounds like a good idea to Taeyong when he’s wound so tight, anxiety and regret eating away at him.

His mother is proposing a trip down to his great aunt’s house for the summer, and Taeyong decides impulsively that it would be good to get away.

“I want to go with you.” Taeyong says over dinner. His phone buzzes against his leg. It’s probably another text from one of his friends. So far, he’s ignored three calls from Ten, a text from Taeil, and even has the housekeeper send away Dongyoung when he comes to Taeyong’s house demanding to see him.

“That’s a first.” His mother comments, but she nods and says, “I’ll get a ticket for you, then.”

He has a horrible feeling of apprehension in his stomach, but he swallows it down and forces a smile at her.

-

Taeyong spends the summer at his great aunt’s house by the sea, dividing his time between stirring up trouble with his cousins and taking care of his niece.

He loves the sea, loves the sun and the sand, loves sitting by himself by the water at sunset, when all the colors of the sky bleed into the horizon, and Taeyong feels like he’s at the end of the world.

Here, all his problems feel distant. If a foreign feeling pangs inside him, he shoves it down and takes a walk on the beach to calm himself.

The end of summer approaches faster than he’d anticipated, though, and he finds himself on a plane home, the smell of the sea still lingering on him.

He’d left his phone at home, too scared to face his friends after the events from the beginning of the summer. When he finally gets home and opens it, he finds calls and messages filling up his mailbox, threats from Ten to call him before he died of anxiety, calming messages telling him to take his time from Yuta and Johnny, and a stream of emojis that make no sense from Mark.

The first person he calls is Ten, and even then, it’s with panic gripping his chest, heart thudding unevenly as he waits through the dial tones.

“So, you didn’t die!” Ten shouts as soon as he picks up, and Taeyong winces, holds the phone away from his ear as Ten begins yelling at him.

“I’m sorry,” he manages to cut in between threats of keeping Taeyong in a cage from now on and Ten practically sobbing in relief, “I don’t have any excuses, I’m really sorry.”

“You even missed us sending Jaehyunnie off.” Ten wails dramatically, and Taeyong has to ask him to repeat the words to understand.

“What do you mean?” he asks, confused.

The melodramatic sobbing noises go quiet immediately, and then, as dread creeps up on Taeyong, Ten says quietly, “You- oh, oh my god.”

“Ten,” Taeyong says slowly, fingers shaking with how hard he’s gripping his phone. “Tell me what you mean.”

“I should have known,” Ten curses softly, “It was so sudden, he didn’t even warn us-“

“Ten!” Taeyong shouts, and the line goes quiet again. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Yong,” Ten mumbles, “Jaehyun applied for the study abroad program at the beginning of summer. He got in.”

It’s all his fault. Taeyong _knows_ it’s all his fault, that Jaehyun is so disgusted with him he had to leave the fucking country, that Jaehyun would rather be across the whole world than be near Taeyong.

It still hurts.

"It's only a semester." Ten soothes, but Taeyong can't focus, can't think about it right now.

“I-“ Taeyong says, breath hitching over the words, “I’m gonna, I need to hang up now.”

If Ten says anything else, he doesn’t catch it, turning his phone off and dropping it back on the table.

Taeyong spends the rest of the year trying to forget the feeling of Jaehyun’s body around his.


	7. Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slimequeen presents the Taeyong Redemption Arc ft therapist johnny

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Taeyong will feel something stirring inside him. It’s barely a conscious feeling, like a long-worn memory, but it’s resiliently there. It scratches at the pit of his belly and claws its way up to his lungs. Taeyong exhales and feels an inexplicable loneliness and sadness.

Taeyong know it’s Jaehyun, thousands of miles away in America.

It hurts. Not on the outside, but deep inside, where his most tender thoughts lie.

He knows he could push forward into that space, if he wished. He could see Jaehyun’s deepest darkest thoughts, the flashes of fear and disappointment that hit him during the day in America that wake Taeyong up when he’s trying to sleep.

He’s heard Johnny talking to Taeil about it during lunch. He’d been stabbing at his noodles and pretending to do his math homework, but Johnny had a troubled expression on his face when he revealed, “Jaehyun’s having a really hard time adjusting. It’s really hard to go and start living somewhere when you’re not a native speaker of the language. He’s really lonely over there all by himself.”

Taeyong fists a hand over his heart sometimes when the feelings get too unbearable, like he wants to physically reach into his chest and pull the anxiety out.

Sometimes Taeyong can’t differentiate between his own feelings and Jaehyun’s. Is it his own loneliness that grips his chest so tight that he can’t breathe or is it Jaehyun, half a world away?

-

“There’s a new kid in our dance class,” Ten informs Taeyong as soon as he sits down. “I heard he came from some fancy dance academy in China where he won tons of prizes and shit.”

Taeyong bites the end of an apple slice and asks, “Why would he come _here_ if he’s so accomplished? And in his last year of school, too?”

Ten shrugs. “That’s the mystery. I also heard he’s cute, though.” He grins up at Johnny, who rolls his eyes. “We should ask him to sit with us.”  

However, the mysterious new kid does not show up that day at lunch, or the next.

Taeyong gets a glimpse of him during dance. He introduces himself in the studio in front of everyone with a flushed, embarrassed face, mumbling out his name, and practically runs out of the locker room as soon as practice is over.

Some of the other dancers have taken to calling him a ghost because it’s easier than pronouncing his name- _Dong Sicheng_. Taeyong tries saying his name several times in the mirror to himself until he perfects it.

Still, even when his pronunciation is perfect, it’s a fruitless effort, because Sicheng is nowhere to be found.

It’s not even until Taeyong stumbles upon him that he realizes what the problem is.

Taeyong gets up early from their table one day to go finish a paper he’d forgotten to do, and when he goes to the library to find a quiet place to work, he finds the tall willowy foreigner sitting on the floor between shelves of books, a book of children’s vocabulary in his hands.

Taeyong feels his heart melt just a little as he crouches down, reaches out and taps Sicheng on the shoulder. Instantly, the boy startles, the book in his hands dropping into his lap. He opens his mouth, then closes it again without saying anything.

“Sicheng, right?” Taeyong asks, as if he doesn’t know.

Sicheng’s eyebrows rise in surprise. He nods, still taciturn. Taeyong sits down on the floor next to him. He smiles, and the other boy’s eyes go wide, as if this is unexpected. “I’m Taeyong,” he says, slowly, enunciating every syllable. “From your dance class.”

“Hey,” Sicheng says shyly, and Taeyong’s surprised by how deep his voice is. It doesn’t match his face at all.

“Are you practicing speaking? Let me tell you, it’s easier when you have a conversation.” Taeyong takes the book from his hands, looks at the beginner level vocabulary in it.

“My friend Yuta, he’s from Japan,” he continues, turning the page, “He said talking to us helped him learn much better than these books ever did. You should come sit with us. Maybe he can help you out.”

From Sicheng’s face, it’s obvious he understands maybe 60% of what Taeyong says, but he must understand the last part, because he nods eagerly.

He stands up, helps Taeyong to his feet, and Taeyong realizes he’s taller than he’d thought.

“Refrigerator.” He says with a smile.

Taeyong stares. “Uhh…” he says, “What?”

Sicheng’s face immediately falls, and Taeyong wishes he’d responded with his own enthusiastic _refrigerator!_

“What did I say?” he asks. “They told me it means…” he screws up his face, then says something in Mandarin. “Friends? You and me?”

Taeyong shakes his head. He mimes opening a fridge, and repeats, “Refrigerator.”

Sicheng looks so distraught, and Taeyong wants to take his hand, tell him to say refrigerator all he wants. “Some of the other kids laughed when I spoke,” Sicheng says, and although his accent is thick, the words are clear enough.

“They’re assholes,” Taeyong instantly responds.

“Assholes?” Sicheng repeats hesitantly, and Taeyong can’t help but smile.

“It’s okay,” he says, looping his arm through Sicheng’s, “Just stick with us and you’ll be fine.”

-

Taeyong is perfectly happy with keeping Sicheng in the dark about the mess that is his life.

However, in a friend group like theirs, things never stay secret.

They’re at lunch, Ten, Johnny, and Taeyong sitting at a table waiting for everyone else to filter in, when Ten announces he forgot to finish his math homework.

 “I’ll be right back.” Ten says, rising up from the table. “I just need to ask Mark a question.”

And then he’s gone, leaving Taeyong and Johnny sitting alone at the table. Taeyong picks at his lunch awkwardly, staring down at his lap.

“You know,” Johnny says with a wry smile, “It’s weird that we see each other every day but I hear more about you from other people.”  

Taeyong furrows his eyebrows. “Does Ten talk about me with you?” He asks, half surprised.

Johnny takes a long slow sip of his water bottle and twists his mouth contemplatively. “Not really. But Jaehyun does. Like, all the time.” He screws the cap of the water bottle back up in slow motion and says hesitantly, “He really misses you.”

Taeyong feels distinctly uncomfortable, like he’s being scrutinized for something he hasn’t done.

All the nights he’s spent curled around his pillow, chest hollow, heart thumping in time to another on the other side of the world, the taste of Jaehyun’s mouth on the tip of his tongue. Johnny can’t know how much _really misses you_ actually entails.

All at once, Taeyong feels too raw and too closed off. Instead, he opts for an honest, “It’s different around here without him.”

Johnny hums, sitting up straighter as he spots someone over Taeyong’s shoulder. He waves them over, and then Sicheng’s sliding into the empty seat next to Taeyong. “What are you guys talking about?” he asks, smiling softly at them.

Sicheng sometimes makes Taeyong feel the same Yuta had made him feel, back when he’d confused those feelings for romantic. He’s come to realize it’s more protective than anything else. Sicheng’s sweet in a way that makes his teeth hurt, makes him want to hug the younger boy close and keep him from the people who snicker in the hallway about his accent.

“Soulmates.” Johnny answers immediately.

Sicheng’s eyebrows crease in the center whenever he doesn’t understand something, and now they bunch together in confusion. “S…soulmates?” he asks slowly, rolling the word around on his tongue.

“Other half,” Johnny tries, “Alpha and Omega?”

Sicheng’s eyes light up in understanding. “Oh!” and then, more wistfully, “I wish I had one of those.”

 _No you don’t_ , Taeyong thinks but does not say. _They’re more worry and stress than anything else._

Sicheng smiles at Taeyong with stars in his eyes and says, “You’re so lucky you’re going to meet someone that special one day. A soulmate.”

Ten chooses that unfortunate moment to return from talking to Mark. “What do you mean? Taeyong’s already got a soulmate.” He says as he sits back down.

Taeyong wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

Sicheng positively lights up, though. “You _have_ one?” He asks excitedly, “You already met them? Can I meet them?” He’s practically bouncing in his seat at the prospect.

Ten frowns a little and he shoots a look at Taeyong. “You didn’t know…” he guesses, “Because Taeyong never bothered to tell you.”

Sicheng’s smile deflates a little. “What do you mean?”

Ten pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Taeyong’s soulmate is in America right now for a year. They’re not exactly… together.”

Sicheng looks more confused if anything. “What do you mean? They’re soulmates.”

“He means I don’t want him.” Taeyong spits finally, so venomously that Johnny flinches.

But that’s not quite true- not anymore. Maybe once, when he was too young to understand feelings that are complicated like this, when Jaehyun was full of hope and smiled for him every day without fail. His longing hides deep in his chest where Johnny and Ten could never find it.

He’s buried it so deep even he can’t feel it most times, until he’s alone in the middle of the night with nothing but the dark and his thoughts and more emotions than he knows what to do with.

Regardless, it’s there, tugging at his heart and squeezing his lungs short of breath.

Sicheng blinks owlishly, confusion written plain on his face.

“I don’t want to explain.” Taeyong says shortly, and rises up from the table. He spends the rest of lunch in the classroom, face buried in his folded arms on his desk.

-

Around the beginning of the new year, when school’s still out and fresh snow is just beginning to fall, Taeyong runs into Jaehyun for the first time in a year.

He’s trying to sleep but his stomach keeps grumbling insistently. He has the oddest craving for the wasabi flavored chips Taeil’s been raving about lately, even though he’s normally more of a sweet-tooth.

He winds up dressing halfheartedly, throwing on a thick jacket over his sweatshirt because he’s always been sensitive to the cold during the winter. He walks to the store against the January wind, the weather making his nose and fingers go numb.

At the store though, he finds a familiar scent in the chips aisle.

He looks up from the bag he’s reaching out to, and comes face to face with warm brown eyes.

Up close, Taeyong realizes just how much Jaehyun has changed in the past year. He’s filled out for the most part, with broad shoulders and a slim face- the last of his baby fat has melted off his cheeks, leaving an angular jaw and sharp cheekbones. He’s taller, too, tall enough that Taeyong needs to tip his head back a bit to look him in the eyes.

There are familiar things, though. The way his eyes curve when he smiles nervously, the dimples indenting deep into his cheeks. The same anxious habit of running his long fingers through his hair.

Taeyong wonders abruptly if Jaehyun’s seeing him differently too. He doesn’t think he’s changed much in the past year, but the way Jaehyun’s eyes linger on his newly dyed hair and his lack of glasses tells him differently.

“Taeyong,” Jaehyun breathes in a voice so soft that Taeyong nearly misses it. He hasn’t heard that honeyed voice in over a year. Something inside him thrums; an echo of longing.

It’s the same and yet- it’s so _different_. Jaehyun’s tall and strong and more Alpha than he’s ever been before and suddenly Taeyong feels quite small standing in front of him in his old joggers and beat up shoes.

“I,” Taeyong chokes out, “I have to go.” He swivels on the balls of his feet, nearly running into a display stand in his haste to escape the situation.

Taeyong can’t breathe correctly until he’s out of the store and in the parking lot in the cool night air. God, had that really happened?

Johnny had said Jaehyun was due back at the end of the semester, but he hadn’t taken into account that schools in America probably ran on different schedules than theirs. Shit. Shit, shit shit.

Of course. He should have known. He doesn’t even like spicy chips, much less get cravings for them in the middle of the night. It’s Jaehyun’s guilty pleasure.

Fuck, he needs to clear his mind. He pats down his pockets, desperately searching for his phone. When he finally finds it wedged into the back pocket of his pants, he clicks the first name he sees without thinking, then flinches when he realizes who he’s calling.

Johnny.

Before he can hang up and pretend nothing happened, Johnny’s groggy voice is on the other line with a faint, “ _hello?_ ”

Taeyong brings the phone back up to his ear and bites his lip in contemplation. On one hand, Johnny is notoriously good at dealing with crises. On the other hand, Johnny’s been Jaehyun’s best friend longer than Taeil’s been his, and probably can’t keep a secret from the Alpha for shit.

After a second of consideration, he tries his luck. “You didn’t tell me he was back.”

“Oh.” Johnny says, his voice suddenly very much more awake. “Taeyong. You didn’t ask.” There’s some rustling over the line, and Taeyong assumes it’s Johnny sitting up in his bed.

“You could have warned me, you know.” Taeyong mumbles, and tucks his jacket closer to him to keep out the chill. It’s a fruitless effort, though, because the January wind is biting his cheeks, finding ways to seep into his bones even when he’s clothed in multiple layers. “Then I wouldn’t have run into him in a supermarket in the middle of the night.”

“Taeyong,” Johnny sighs.

Taeyong hates how he says his name. Like a little kid wanting to be indulged that Johnny has decided is just barely worth his time. Like something that needs to be dealt with.

“Where are you?” Johnny asks.

“Walking home from the market. Pretending I didn’t just see Jaehyun after a year of constantly feeling what he’s feeling. Pretending we didn’t sleep together and that I didn’t break his heart.”

Johnny snorts. “You’re very straightforward, did you know that? You don’t skim over anything.”

“I guess.” Taeyong sniffles and tugs his scarf higher so it covers his chin.

Johnny makes a noise like he’s deep in thought. “Listen. I’m going to come pick you up, okay? I think you need to talk and I guess I’m the only other one who usually knows what’s going on inside Jaehyun’s head. Send me your location and just wait where you are.”

Johnny hangs up then, so Taeyong sends his location and drops onto the curb to wait.

Less than twenty minutes later, Johnny’s little black car is pulling up in front of him. When Taeyong slides into the passenger seat, he sees that the Alpha is still somewhat bed-ruffled, his hair messy and pulled back with a hat, pajama shirt still on under his track jacket.

He looks good like this, Taeyong realizes with mild surprise. When had they all gone and grown up?

“So,” Johnny says, one big hand on the gear shift, the other on the wheel, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Taeyong takes his time collecting his thoughts. Seeing Jaehyun after so long has left his mind reeling, and in the dark and warmth of Johnny’s car, the reality of the situation sets in quicker. The longing in his chest is back full force, and this time he knows that it’s his own emotions, not Jaehyun’s.

“I think…” he searches for the right words, “I think I missed him.”

Johnny hums, tapping his nails against the steering wheel. “You guys have both had time to cool down from all that stuff that happened last year.”

“Right,” Taeyong agrees, nodding quickly, “But that doesn’t change things between us. I still can’t give him what he wants.”

“And what is it that he wants, again?”

Taeyong drags a hand through his hair, disheveled strands falling through his fingers. It’s dry from the bleach and dye. “An idealistic version of the world. A perfect Omega who can give him everything.”

“Everything?” Johnny tilts his head to the side and glances at Taeyong out of the corner of his eye.

“Unconditional love? Family? I don’t know, the traditional normal shit. The kind of things I can’t give him.” Taeyong draws his feet up on the seat, surprised that he can even fit like this when Johnny’s car is pretty tiny. He wraps his arms around his knees, hugs them close to his chest, and whispers, “I can’t be what he wants.”

Johnny’s eyes are soft when he turns back to Taeyong. “Have you considered what you want?”

What he wants. He doesn’t even know what he wants. A society without the constrictions that have been placed on him? To fight against his biology and not fall for an Alpha like Jung Jaehyun? Even as he thinks the words, they seem like a lie. Everything in Taeyong has been screaming at him to give in since the beginning, to let Jaehyun hold him and have him, to let Jaehyun be his, and vice versa. It’s only his own stubbornness that keeps him sane at those times, that keeps him from falling back on instinct.

Taeyong’s stomach hurts in the way a small child’s does when they’ve done something wrong- an unnamable discomfort at the pit of his belly that rises up through him and makes his lips tremble.

“What do you think a bad Omega is?” The question is abrupt. It comes out of his mouth before he can think it through.

Johnny sighs, long and thoughtful, looks at him with eyes gentler than Taeyong even know he could do, and Taeyong knows at once that he’s chosen the right person to ask.  

“I think we’re all just people.” Johnny says, “There’s no such thing as a definitive bad or good anything. Do you think you’re a bad Omega?”

 _Yes_ , Taeyong thinks miserably, but out loud, he says, “I can’t be quiet and submissive. I’m too skinny- I don’t even look like an Omega. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t be what he deserves. I keep hurting him every time we make any progress getting closer, and I just can’t make him happy.””

Suddenly, the car is turning into a tiny residential neighborhood, where the lights of all the houses are off, leaving them as vaguely menacing looming shapes in the dark. Johnny parks next to a dark house and turns to him. “Tae,” He says, and his voice is so raw that Taeyong can’t look at him, “Taeyong, I think you need to talk to Jaehyun about all of this.”

“I can’t,” Taeyong tries to say, but it comes out as a sob, tears burning in his eyes, “I c-can’t, not after I ruined everything between us.”

Johnny presses his lips together tightly. “I know what you think of yourself,” he begins, staring very hard at the steering wheel, “That you’re not good enough, that you can’t be what Jaehyun needs. But he’s not a saint, you know. He has his flaws too. And for the record?” He glances at Taeyong, and his mouth twists into the shadow of a smile. “He loves you more than anything. Flaws included.”

Taeyong blinks, and then there are tears falling down his face, sobs wracking up his chest uncontrollably. “Please,” he cries, “Don’t tell me that. Don’t make me feel like this anymore.”

His insides feel all tangled up with confusion and longing, and somewhere, he can feel Jaehyun’s alarm at the emotions.

Johnny scrubs a hand over his face, pushes his hair back and shoves the hat back over it. “Hey,” he says quietly, “If it hurts that much, just go talk to him. There’s only one place to go from where you are now, and it’s up.”

“What if he doesn’t ever want to see me again? God, I probably deserve that.” Taeyong laughs, but the sound is raw, unpleasant and humorless. “He probably hates me after the shit I said.”

“You know he’d never hate you.”

“Wanna bet?” Taeyong gnaws on his already-bitten down thumb, tastes blood in his mouth. “I still don’t know exactly what I want, even after all this. I’m too indecisive, and I know he’s going to get tired of it one day and stop chasing after me.”

Johnny’s phone buzzes then, loud and insistent, Jaehyun’s name flashing across the screen. Johnny curses under his breath, eyes flicking between the phone and Taeyong, who feels frozen. Finally, he mouths, _pick up_.

Johnny answers the phone with a hesitant “Jae?”

Taeyong keeps nibbling on his thumb, unable to help himself even though it’s bleeding freely now. Johnny glances over, knocks his hand down from his mouth casually, and keeps listening to Jaehyun. Taeyong can’t hear what Jaehyun is saying, but it takes him a long time to say it, Johnny nodding and humming in agreement several times before he says, “I think you should call him tomorrow when things have calmed down and then talk things out.”

Johnny listens for a bit more, says, “Of course,” and a series of agreements, and then says, “Listen,” his voice softening in affection, “You’re the most patient person I have ever met. It has to work out somehow, doesn’t it?”

Then, “No, Jae, I don’t think you’re acting entitled. I think you’re acting very humbly and that you deserve to stop beating yourself up over everything.”

Taeyong bites his lip. _He’d never hate you. He’d never hate you._ He reaches out before he can overthink it, grabs the phone from Johnny’s ear. Johnny immediately gives it to him.

He clears his throat once, then says into the receiver, “Let me talk to you.”

Jaehyun’s voice goes, “ _Taeyong_?”

Taeyong wants to pretend his voice doesn’t send a pang of longing through him, of long-buried desire that flutters its wings restlessly. He can’t.

“Please let me come see you,” he says, hands shaking where they grip Johnny’s phone. “I can’t wait until tomorrow.”

For a long time, Jaehyun is silent. Then, he says, “Okay. I think it’s good if we talk and get it over with. I’ll be at your house in fifteen minutes.”

Then the line goes silent.

Taeyong furrows his eyebrows, glancing at Johnny.

“He… hung up?” he says, confusion blooming across his face.

Johnny shrugs. “Let me take you to him,” he says, and the words make Taeyong’s heart thrum in anticipation.

“My house. He’s waiting at my house.”

Johnny takes his time driving to Taeyong’s house, like he knows Taeyong needs time to prepare himself for this.

It begins snowing, the flakes gleaming white under the dim streetlights.

 Johnny stops in front of his house. “Good luck,” he says sincerely.

Taeyong nods.

Jaehyun is standing in front of the gate, a scarf covering the bottom half of his face. He pulls it down once Taeyong closes the car door behind him.

For a minute, they just size each other up, half warily, half impatient.

“I like your hair,” Jaehyun finally breaks the silence, that familiar smile spreading on his lips.

Taeyong reaches up, fingers brushing back the pastel pink strands from his face self-consciously. “Thanks,” he murmurs. He’s never felt this shy in front of Jaehyun before. “Ten did it.”

“Ah,” Jaehyun says, “Of course.”

It’s awkward like it never had been before. Jaehyun looks so in his element, his face calm, standing at his full height like he never did before. Taeyong doesn’t know what to say or do. He wraps his arms around himself instinctively.

The snow is falling faster, thick fluffy flakes that fall into Jaehyun’s hair and shoulders without melting. He looks like he’s going to disappear into the snow.

Taeyong opens his mouth to speak.

At the same time, Jaehyun says, “I forgive you, you know. For that stuff last year.”

Taeyong shakes his head, the weight of regret bearing down on him. “I don’t want you to. I want you to stay angry. I really fucked up.”

“It hurt for a long time,” Jaehyun admits, as if Taeyong couldn’t feel all the pain echoed inside himself. “I thought to myself, it’s my fault, I should have done something different, I should have told you to stay. I thought about all the things I could have done differently.”

Of course, he’d beaten himself over things, again and again, and Taeyong had let him, not once considering his own faults. How many nights had Taeyong gone to sleep pretending not to feel Jaehyun’s hurt?

Taeyong feels tears prickle at his eyes. “I-I’m really sorry,” he whispers. “You were so young, and I took advantage of that.”

“It’s really okay,” Jaehyun replies immediately, “There’s no one else I’d have rather done that with. I’m glad it was you and not someone else.”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Taeyong sobs freely now, the warm tears cooling on his face, “I shouldn’t have- shouldn’t have been so selfish.”

Jaehyun crosses his arms in front of his chest. “You’re not selfish.” He says carefully, and Taeyong feels the apprehensive nature behind the words, “And for what it’s worth, it really is okay. I would never hold it against you.”

Taeyong shakes his head. “That’s it, though. I want you to. You forgive me every time, even when it’s all my fault, even when I make you feel like nothing. Why don’t you ever get upset with me?”

Jaehyun smiles, and he looks so at peace that Taeyong wants to scream because he doesn’t understand. “I do,” he finally says. “Get upset with you, that is. I’ve probably stayed up more nights than I can count crying on the phone with Johnny hyung, asking him why the world is so unfair, why my soulmate hates me so much when I didn’t even _do_ anything.”

Jaehyun doesn’t sound accusatory, even once. Taeyong feels shame burn his cheeks red, and he looks down at the snow swirling around his feet.

“But,” Jaehyun says, “Taking that time away helped me realize that I don’t need your validation. We may be bonded, we may feel what the other feels, but that doesn’t mean we have to base our lives around each other.”

Taeyong’s mouth is hanging open, and Jaehyun laughs, the sound rich, freer than it has ever been. “It’s really okay,” he concludes, “I think that I can live my life without you. It’s going to hurt for god knows how long, but eventually, I’ll really be okay.”

Taeyong’s tears fall heavier, blurring his eyesight, and Jaehyun becomes a blur of colors, brown for his hair, red for his lips, an impression of a boy. Taeyong feels the carefully cultivated feelings in his chest stamped down, destroyed as Jaehyun says, “I don’t need to cling to you anymore.”

Taeyong suppresses the sobs that threaten to come out of his mouth, and he says, “I’m glad. I’m happy. You deserve someone who can love you wholeheartedly.”

He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, and he says the words that make his heart finally fall to pieces. “Goodbye, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun says with a bittersweet smile, “See you around.”

It’s better like this. Taeyong repeats the sentence like a mantra in his head as he opens the gate and makes his way into a dark, empty house, and he feels Jaehyun walk away, his head held high.

It’s better this way for both of them. They’re a disaster. They can’t get anything right. It’s better like this.

It sounds like a lie.


	8. Eighteen

There are no such thing as coincidences in Taeyong’s life.

Meeting his soulmate. Jaehyun being only an arm’s reach away whenever he needed the younger boy. Every strange, tense, tender moment that has passed between them.

Taeyong knows they are not coincidences, because all of that must have been building up to _something_ (that something being their fight? Or perhaps Taeyong realizing that without Jaehyun in his life, he’s left pining), and because there is no such thing as coincidence, Jaehyun moving into the same apartment as him is because of inevitability.

Fate loves to do Lee Taeyong dirty.

Independence is fresh on his tongue for all of two days before his roommate moves in, moving a dozen boxes noisily down the hall, making Taeyong’s curiosity peak.

He’d signed the lease without knowing who his roommate is going to be, and the thought of having someone he doesn’t know makes him both excited and nervous.

Taeyong cracks the door open and peers out, catches the elevator door closing on his new roommate before he can get a good look at him. There are boxes piled up in front of the door, and Taeyong is glad they had the decency to at least stack up the boxes and not clutter up the hall. Perhaps cohabitation wouldn’t be so difficult, after all.

That is, until Taeyong opens the door again when he hears footsteps coming down the hall and winds up slamming against a solid body.

Taeyong’s built like a twig-he windmills backwards with a panicked yelp, balance coming undone. He shuts his eyes, ready to land on his ass, for pain to flare up his back.

But then a firm hand catches his arm, pulls him back to his feet, and Taeyong finds himself pressed to the pleasantly warm chest of a stranger.

He opens his eyes. Something smells wrong.

Dread wells up inside him. He rears back and looks up at the face in front of him.

Jaehyun smiles sheepishly. “Hey.”

-

There are too many things to sort out.

Firstly, Taeyong would rather chew off his own fingers than have to share an apartment with Jaehyun for the next year, leases signed or not.

Secondly, Jaehyun continues moving in like everything is fine while Taeyong panics, cutting apart taped boxes and spreading his belongings all over _Taeyong’s_ home.

Taeyong is about to lose his mind, but he manages to stay outwardly calm, sitting on the couch watching Jaehyun with wary eyes.

“You know,” Jaehyun says conversationally, arms buried up to his elbows in a box of bedsheets and blankets, “It could be worse.”

“Could it?” Taeyong snaps. _Jaehyun_ hasn’t spent the past year beating his meat and crying for three days every month, heat consuming his body over and over until he thinks he’s really going to lose his mind.

The choice to go off his suppressants again hadn’t been difficult to make. They’ve never sat right with him, and with Jaehyun theoretically moving on from him, he hadn’t had any reason to suppress his heats.

They’ve been difficult at best, but Taeyong manages.

But with Jaehyun so close, his scent so raw and _Alpha_ , permeating the air of their apartment, Taeyong’s insides are going crazy, his stomach churning.

And then on top of everything, there’s the fact that Taeyong has been aching, no, _longing_ for Jaehyun over the past year, stubborn aggression melting when there’s nothing to throw it against. He’s dreamt of Jaehyun many times, of his smile, of the way his body had felt against Taeyong’s, the affection in his eyes when he looks at Taeyong.

He hates himself for it. It’s hypocritical, it’s possibly the biggest asshole move on a huge list of Asshole Moves that he’s guilty of, but his feelings are inextinguishable.

At least away from Jaehyun, he’d be able to use the distance as an excuse for his desire. With the younger boy living with him though, he has no defenses.

“I’m just saying,” Jaehyun muses, “At least neither of us are going to live with someone we hate. We’re compatible, so cohabitation should be a snap.”

Taeyong is more than a little neurotic when it comes to his living space. It’s one of the reasons none of his other friends had exactly thrown themselves into the opportunity to live with him. (Taeil says, “I love you more than anything, but if you drag me for leaving a glass on the table in my _own house_ one more time, I’m going to make you go home.”)

Jaehyun is clean though, picking up after himself, keeping his belongings ordered and neat. Taeyong can live with it. He owes the younger boy at least that much.

-

In a way, living with Jaehyun is easier than he’d expected.

Jaehyun is the perfect roommate by every standard, waking up early and brewing coffee for two, picking up after himself, and never bothering Taeyong when he’s busy with studying.

Taeyong’s problem is more complex, though.

He and Jaehyun have been getting increasingly friendly as a side effect of the proximity. After long days of classes, they get home around the same time and cook together, and then settle in to watch stupid dramas or anime. Their preferences are oddly similar, and they never fight over what to watch.

They stay stubborn on the subject of their past, not mentioning it when either one of them come home with kiss swollen lips or bruises lining his neck. Each time Jaehyun sneaks home late at night smelling of someone else, it makes Taeyong’s stomach churn oddly and Taeyong know the same happens vice versa, can practically _feel_ the tension in the air whenever Jaehyun spots hickeys on his skin left by anonymous mouths.

But they’re both too stubborn for their own goods, and so they stay resilient.

“It’s scary how weirdly in sync you guys are lately,” Yuta comments one day when he swings by.

“It’s freaky,” Johnny agrees from the kitchen, where he is currently trying his best to tame the brewing disaster Ten is creating on the stove.

“Not its not!” Jaehyun and Taeyong say simultaneously, then immediately turn wide eyes onto each other.

Fortunately, Yuta finds the movie he’s looking for then, and he’s too busy trying to shepherd everyone into the living room to bother with harassing them anymore.

Throughout the movie, Taeyong sneaks glances at Jaehyun’s face, and finds that he can’t tear his eyes away from the Alpha’s straight nose and dark eyes.

-

It’s not until springtime that Taeyong realizes just how complex things have become.

Jaehyun sneezes once in the morning, and Taeyong asks if he’s okay.

“It’s just allergies,” Jaehyun waves him off, and keeps sipping his tea. Taeyong, on the other hand, thinks it has more to do with the fact that he’d stayed out with some of his friends from university the previous weekend during a rainstorm, returning soaked to the bone.

“I’m fine,” he assures again when Taeyong rolls his eyes, “Seriously.”

“If you catch a cold, don’t blame me.” Taeyong mutters, and finishes drying the dishes he’d been washing.

Jaehyun scoffs, keeps sipping at his tea, pulling out his phone to send a text to someone. Taeyong imagines its something like “c _an you believe Taeyong, first he’s a shitty human being for the longest time, now he’s trying to act like he cares.”_ And Johnny would reply, “ _shut the fuck up, it’s too early for this.”_

By the time Taeyong returns from his one class of the day, Jaehyun is nowhere to be found. It isn’t until a soft cough resounds from the direction of Jaehyun’s room does Taeyong venture over and find the younger boy shivering in his bed, wrapped in at least four of their thickest blankets. At least one of them is Taeyong’s, but Jaehyun is still shivering under all the layers, so he doesn’t push it.

“It was allergies, huh,” Taeyong says, pettiness winning out over concern for a second.

Jaehyun coughs weakly instead of responding, and blinks slowly at him with watery, far away eyes.

The protective instincts in Taeyong rise up, knocking into him like a tidal wave. He rushes to make something warm for Jaehyun to eat, settles on porridge, and while it’s cooking, grabs a wet towel to wipe the sweat off his clammy forehead.

Jaehyun’s eyes are trembling behind his eyelids, and he looks so vulnerable, the set of his mouth pouty, and Taeyong traces his features with his eyes, a strange yearning growing inside him. He brushes it off, carefully pushes Jaehyun’s hair off his forehead and wipes the sweat off with the towel.

While he’s working, Jaehyun’s eyes flutter, and he slips somewhere between awake and asleep. Jaehyun looks up at him with fever-blurred eyes, his pupils blown to twice their normal size. His chapped lips part, and he sucks in a shallow breath. He whispers, “Taeyong?”

“Shh,” Taeyong hushes him, brushing his damp hair off his forehead. He’s sweating, perspiration beading along his temples, but when Taeyong asks, “Are you hot?” he shakes his head slowly.

Jaehyun’s voice is weak from his sore throat, so when he says, “Can you stay with me?” it’s soft, broken-voiced, and it makes Taeyong’s heart clench painfully. How is he supposed to say no when Jaehyun’s asking so earnestly?

Taeyong swallows hard. “I’m not leaving,” he whispers, and curls into Jaehyun’s uncomfortably warm side. “I’m right here.”

Jaehyun’s body runs a higher temperature anyways (he’s seen Johnny and Mark try to leech off off his body heat, Jaehyun flinching at their cold hands) but now he’s so warm that Taeyong can feel the heat radiating off him through the layer of blankets.

Jaehyun finally releases a relieved sigh when Taeyong keeps stroking his hair, relaxing back down into the bed.

“Yong,” he slurs, eyes already dropped shut.

Taeyong hums, keeps stroking his hair rhythmically. Jaehyun’s breath is so slow, he’s sure the younger boy is about to fall asleep any second now. He’s so sweet like this, it makes Taeyong’s chest ache with the guilt of acting out at him too many times.

“Love you,” Jaehyun murmurs, the end of the sentence trailing off as he finally gives up to unconsciousness.

Taeyong’s chest feels tight, his face heating up. An unnamable feeling rises up within him, and it’s so complex that Taeyong is too scared to try and understand it.

He stays silent, stays still until Jaehyun’s deep asleep, and then carefully extricates himself from the blanket. Jaehyun’s tossing and turning, sleeping restlessly, but it’s better than nothing.

And then, when Jaehyun’s fever breaks, he doesn’t remember his words, and he thanks Taeyong for taking care of him, and they go back to pretending like it never happened.

Still, Jaehyun’s words echo around his head over and over, stirring up all kinds of sleeping emotions.

He’s been keeping his heart so closely guarded for the past year, but with every passing day, Jaehyun gives him another kind smile, brushes their fingers together in another casual touch, and Taeyong feels the sprouts of feelings grow a little more in his chest.

He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold himself back, and it terrifies him.

-

Taeyong’s been spending every heat alone, and he finally deems himself to be fairly in control after he finishes one in under two days, dragging himself forcefully through it. He still feels absolutely like shit afterwards, but at the very least, he’s not crying for Jaehyun.

And so, he decides to allow the Alpha to remain in their apartment when his next one comes.

He brings it up as casually as possible, mentioning over breakfast, “By the way, if you want, you don’t have to leave during my heat. You can just stay. I’m just going to stay in my room.”

Jaehyun looks up, the look in his eyes unreadable. “Okay,” he agrees, somewhat warily.

It’s easier said than done.

The night before his heat, Jaehyun sits on the far end of the couch from him, the set of his spine rigid, his hands like claws by his sides.

Taeyong feels slightly affronted, but he shakes it off and drinks plenty of water before retiring early.

His actual heat begins sometime at night.

He wakes up in the morning with pain weighing his limbs down, a deep rooted ache taking up residence in his stomach, and Taeyong groans, rubbing a hand over his flat belly.

Taeyong practically has to drag himself off his bed, and even then, half of his blankets end up on the floor in his last-ditch attempt to bring them with him. If Taeyong knows anything about Jaehyun it’s that he’s a persistent fucker that won’t leave him alone until Taeyong goes outside and makes sure to let him know that he’s not dead.

Jaehyun is sitting on the couch when he stumbles into the living room. The last thing Taeyong expects is for Jaehyun to be settled comfortably with his feet up on one end.

“Get off the couch,” he says shortly, but Jaehyun makes no move to leave. In fact, he settles deeper into the worn cushions. “Get _off._ ” Taeyong puts more force behind the words this time. It’s _his_ couch, and he feels so moody for no reason. Everything Jaehyun does is annoying him, from the confident set of his shoulders to the furrow of his eyebrows on his handsome face.

Jaehyun scoffs, sitting up. “You’re getting angry for no reason. You’re the one who said I could stay, remember?”

“But not on my _couch_. Why can’t you just sit in your room and stop spreading your, your _scent_ all over the place?” Taeyong could tear his hair out from how crazy the smell of Jaehyun’s arousal thick and obvious in the air makes him.

“You know I can’t control it.” Jaehyun reasons, and even though Taeyong does know, he can’t get a grip on his emotions in his state. “If you needed me, though…”

Taeyong’s fists clench so hard that his nails dig into the flesh of his palms, and Jaehyun flinches automatically in response. Taeyong knows how in tune Jaehyun must be with his emotions and isn’t afraid to use it as an advantage, even if it is playing dirty. He aims all his hate to the stupid _connection_ they have between them and pushes as hard as he can.

Jaehyun maintains eye contact, and if Taeyong weren’t on the verge of collapsing, he’d pull out the distress and waterworks that always works on soft Alphas like Jaehyun.

“I don’t need an Alpha.” Taeyong mutters, and then spins on his heel. He’d dug his own grave, telling Jaehyun he could stay during his heat. At the very least, he can bar himself in his room and work through the stupid heat by himself like every other time and then hopefully avoid Jaehyun for the rest of his life.

“Hey,” Jaehyun calls in a strangely serious voice. Taeyong stops with his fingers wrapped around the doorknob. “I know you don’t need an Alpha. But… but you don’t have to bear it alone. If you need me, I’m right here.”

Taeyong fights the shudder that threatens his body at the words. He bites out, “I don’t need it.” but even that feels forced.

If Jaehyun says anything else, it’s drowned out by the slamming of the door.

-

Taeyong has been working out his heats by himself in the safety of his room, Jaehyun always excusing himself to go stay with Johnny and Ten for a few days, and Taeyong crawls into his room sometimes, steals a sweater, and spends his heat crying, curled up in his bed with Jaehyun’s clothing between his fingers, his scent the only reprieve from the painful burn rolling through his body.

Afterwards, they both pretend nothing happened, and Taeyong washes whatever item of clothing he’d stolen and returns it to Jaehyun’s closet.

But now Jaehyun is right through the door, and Taeyong is so _aroused_ that it hurts, thrumming through his body in a sweet ache that has him gasping for breath, the air emptying from his lungs.

Jaehyun’s scent is so much rawer when he’s nearby than the makeshift secondhand scenting Taeyong’s done on his clothing, and Taeyong throbs with need every time his breath hitches over an inhale.

It takes exactly three hours for him to realize that he doesn’t have the willpower to keep himself away, and pitifully drags himself to the living room again. Jaehyun’s on his laptop, and Taeyong thinks he wears the mask of nonchalance well. If not for the fact that Taeyong has been living with him for half a year now, and that he can read the smallest details in Jaehyun’s frame, he’d never know how rigidly the younger boy is sitting, how tense the set of his jaw is.

Taeyong’s entire body burns, like he’s roasting slowly from the inside out. “Jaehyun,” is all he has to breathe out for Jaehyun to be at full attention, back straightening out. Every word feels labored through his lips, but Taeyong spits them out anyways. “I..I changed my mind.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen, taken aback. Taeyong would laugh at his expression if he weren’t probably making an equally embarrassing face, eyes teary and cheeks flushed. 

When Jaehyun shakes his head, Taeyong feels his consciousness turn, ready to tilt out of focus. “You didn’t.” Jaehyun says, like Taeyong hasn’t been stewing over this for the past four hours. “It’s not you talking, it’s the Omega in you.”

Taeyong hisses out, “If you hadn’t noticed, I _am_ an Omega. And you’re my supposed Alpha, who is stuck in my apartment while I feel like I’m being burned alive ten times over, so maybe you should _do_ something about it.” His nails dig deep indents into the fleshy parts of his palms, but instead of hurting, it helps keep him sane. (Or as level headed as he can get in this state.)

Taeyong feels like a little kid standing in front of him like this, petulant even in the set of his shoulders, his arms crossed tight over his chest, which is ridiculous because Taeyong’s older than him. He’s starting to lose focus, distracted by the disgustingly good scent Jaehyun always seems to have lingering around him. It gnaws at his insides and for one second, he’s tempted to just fall to his knees and beg—but no, he has to keep even a shred of dignity.

Jaehyun sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Please don’t do this all of a sudden, Taeyong. You’re going to regret it later if we did anything now.”

Rejection seeps into Taeyong’s bones, leaving cold in its wake. “Fuck you,” Taeyong says, full of loathing. “You have no idea how bad it hurts.” His voice tapers off, but he can feel Jaehyun’s uneasiness through the unbearable pounding in his head. “I just—“ he’s walking closer before he can help himself, unable to resist whatever draws them together, legs trembling under his own weight, “Please, I just need to be near you.”

He reaches out on instinct but Jaehyun moves back, catching his wrist and holding him at an arm’s length. “Look at me for a second—that’s right, just like that, okay Taeyong?” Taeyong hates it—Jaehyun is talking to him like he’s a kid, but the baser part of his mind is screaming, pleading with his mouth to ask Jaehyun to take care of him, but Taeyong keeps his lips squeezed together with effort. He forces his eyes up over Jaehyun’s face to his eyes and immediately wants to look away. His face is too intense, too much sharp cheekbone and pale skin against the starry black of his eyes.

Still, Taeyong’s willpower is strong enough that he can keep his eyes steady on Jaehyun’s and he lets the Alpha reach out, both physically and through whatever profound force binds them to each other. Taeyong’s sane part tells him to resist, like he always has. The last time they’d been this close in mind had been back when Taeyong had been a teenager during his first heat and he’d been scared out of his mind. Fuck, he still is scared out of his mind. All he’s ever done is try to keep away and he’s not sure how to give in for once.

But it’s surprisingly easy to meet his demise in Jaehyun’s arms—he’s spent so long resisting, it’s like his body doesn’t have the will to stop anymore. His limbs turn into jelly the second Jaehyun shifts to accommodate him and he finds himself sinking into Jaehyun’s embrace

His fingers knot into Jaehyun’s jacket and he straddles the Alpha’s leg, pretending he can’t feel where his hard cock presses against Jaehyun’s thigh, pretending he can’t feel Jaehyun equally as hard against his leg. Jaehyun’s presence, just their skin pressed together makes Taeyong feel like he can finally breathe again, even if all he can smell is the heavy scent of arousal pouring off Jaehyun in waves.

“I hate this,” Taeyong gasps out shakily, “I hate this so much, I wish I had any other Alpha, anyone but you,” but his hands are clutching Jaehyun’s shirt like his life depends on it, breathing in the scent of him, nosing into his neck and letting out a deep shuddery breath.

Jaehyun touches like he's afraid to, trailing slow careful fingers down the line of his back. “I know,” he whispers, “I wish you had another Alpha too.” His voice is so quietly heartbroken that Taeyong almost believes him.

Taeyong quakes when Jaehyun’s warm palm stops right over the base of his spine, heavy and reassuring. “God,” Taeyong moans lowly, “ _God_ , I’m going to die.” The heat spikes inside him almost feverishly and his eyes roll back into his head as another tumbling wave of arousal washes over him. He keens against Jaehyun’s sharp jaw and nips at it insistently, breath unsteady and pupils dilated twice their normal size.

“You’re going to be fine.” Jaehyun says quietly, rubbing his back in a way that is probably meant to be soothing but only makes Taeyong’s insides quiver. “I’m right here and I’ve got you. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Jaehyun’s words themselves have little affect when Taeyong’s mind is so muddled but his presence alone is enough to make it bearable. Taeyong despises it. He wants to crush the voice in his mind telling him to _submit submit submit_ , wants to push Jaehyun out with every fiber of his being, but the relief of his presence is like ice water on a hot day and Taeyong doesn’t have it in him to reject the Alpha anymore. He’s scared, more than he’s ever been in his life, and of _Jaehyun_ of all people.

But something in him says _trust_ so Taeyong does.

Taeyong’s own mind branches forward tentatively, feeling out what he’s been holding back on for so long. Jaehyun exhales, long and labored as Taeyong—for lack of better word—pulls at the metaphorical strings binding them tightly together. He’s never explored them so thoroughly before but now everything feels too new, too beautiful. How had be gone for so long without paying attention to the thousands of golden threads weaving their lives together?

He’d thought it would be intrusive. Another person in his mind, probing at his thoughts, finding out all his secrets and idiosyncrasies, learning what makes him squirm and what he’s ashamed of (and God, there’s enough shame to last him into the next lifetime).

But it’s simply _not_.

When Taeyong had been very young, he’d watched raindrops merge together in their hurry down his bedroom windows. This is like that; the sense of two separate things being unified into one. Taeyong has been one part of a whole for his entire life, and this is his other half.

It’s terrifying. He’s laid bare, vulnerable for Jaehyun to see what he’s never let anyone else see; memories of a big lonely house and disappointment from his father and his mother’s empty smile and stormy afternoons spent hidden away by himself. Fear of Alphas. Shame at being an Omega. Everything he’s felt towards Jaehyun, hate and anger and lust and longing and love and love and _love._

“No,” Taeyong cries, “ _Don’t_ ,” and pushes back with all the force left in his body. He comes spiraling out of his thoughts and everything feels oversensitive, his skin searing everywhere Jaehyun is touching him. His cheeks are wet with tears that he hadn’t realized were falling and he’s shuddering with sobs. The rational part of his mind tells him it’s the heat hormones, but a bigger part of him knows it’s the fact that Jung Jaehyun has seen everything he’d so carefully hidden away for the past nineteen years.

“I’m sorry.” Jaehyun brushes his tears away tenderly, concern pinching his eyebrows together when Taeyong flinches away. “I’m not looking,” he whispers, “I won’t look at anything else, I promise.

When Taeyong still doesn’t look up at him, Jaehyun cups the back of his neck with his slender warm hands and threads his fingers through Taeyong's hair. “Don’t cry, Taeyong, please don’t—fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry so deep, I didn’t know you had… things you didn’t want me to see.”

 Taeyong’s cheeks burn but at this point he’s not sure if it’s the heat or his own embarrassment causing it. All he wants it for Jaehyun to let him go so he can crawl pitifully back into his room and avoid the Alpha for the rest of his life, but something keeps him rooted and he finds that as much as he wants to, he can’t bring himself to move.

"Taeyong," Jaehyun says again, careful and coaxing, stroking his fingers through Taeyong's hair, "Please don't cry." It's pointless to say when he's already sobbing, shuddering periodically, cheeks streaked with tears, and they both know it.

Then, Jaehyun does something unexpected. He wraps his arms around Taeyong and pulls him close, holding him so tightly that Taeyong can feel the steady beating of his heart against his ear. “Please don’t be scared,” Jaehyun whispers, and Taeyong hadn’t even realized how fast his own heart’s beating, thudding hard up in his throat.

“I-I’m not what you need,” Taeyong cries, and it’s like a dam has been opened, the words he’s been struggling to find his whole life spilling from his mouth uncontrollably, “I can’t be what you want, I can’t be what you d-deserve,” his voice cracks over the word, “I’m not good enough, I _can’t_ be good enough for you. Don’t be so nice to me when I’m so, I’ve been so cruel to you.”

Jaehyun’s trembling finely against him, and when Taeyong pulls back, blinks the tears out of his eyes, he finds that Jaehyun is crying too.

“Please don’t,” Jaehyun whispers, his voice breaking over the words, “Don’t talk like that anymore. You know how I’ve felt about you, how I _still_ feel, after all this time. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done or said. All that matters is how you feel right now. Even if you don’t think you’re what I need, you’re what I _want_.”

Jaehyun’s arms wrap around his waist, picking him up easily and pulling him into his lap. When he speaks, his voice is increasingly soft, like a caress. “Look at me, Taeyong.”

Taeyong lifts his head, blinks the tears out of his eyes and says, “Y-you told me you didn’t need me. That you didn’t want me anymore.”

“I _always_ want you,” Jaehyun whispers, and then they’re clinging onto each other, mouths meeting in frantic, messy kisses that leave Taeyong’s lips tender, heat rising up inside him.

Jaehyun bites down against the curve of his collarbone and a pulse of arousal hits him hard, and Taeyong’s mouth rounds into a loud gasp that has Jaehyun pulling him closer, holding him tighter.

“Let me take you to bed.” Jaehyun says, his voice rough with restraint.

“Please,” Taeyong cries, clinging onto him.

Jaehyun manages to stand, and Taeyong realizes how much bigger he’s gotten in the past two years, his shoulders filling out, his build broad when Taeyong holds onto him. His body is hard under Taeyong’s, and it’s a new, foreign feeling.

Jaehyun carries him to his room easily and sets Taeyong down on the bed. He straightens, takes a second to calm his erratic breathing, and Taeyong watches the rapid rise and fall of his chest impatiently. “It hurts,” he says again, this time whinier. “Jaehyunnie, fix it.”

“Of course,” Jaehyun obliges easily, practically tackling him against the mattress. Taeyong is flat on his back in seconds, Jaehyun’s thighs over his hips, and the weight is a comfortable welcome one.

Jaehyun undresses Taeyong quickly, sensing his urgency, pulling his shirt over his head, sliding the sweatpants down his thighs. Taeyong grimaces when he realizes how much slick is smeared between his thighs, but Jaehyun looks at him with reverent, wide eyes.

He flushes under the intense expression. He feels awkward somehow, like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he settles on grabbing Jaehyun’s sweatshirt and helping him tug it over his head, then sliding a hand into his joggers to palm his cock.

Jaehyun’s dick is smooth against his palm, warm and throbbing, and Taeyong unwittingly feels saliva flood his mouth. Jaehyun groans, pushes his hand away and strips off his pants, and then they’re staring at each other, breathing harshly through their mouths, hesitant and eager at the same time.

Taeyong breaks the silence first, with a voice calmer than he thought it could be when his body’s so frantic, “I want you to fuck me.”

Jaehyun squeezes his lips together, nods tightly, and curls a hand around Taeyong’s neck, kisses him deeply, licking a path down his mouth to his neck. Taeyong’s hands come up to hold onto the Alpha instinctively when he slips a hand between Taeyong’s legs, fingertips skimming the sensitive insides of Taeyong’s thighs.

Taeyong feels his entrance twitch, his entire body pulsing with need, and then Jaehyun curls a finger into him, the digit slipping in easily when he’s as aroused as he is. “More,” Taeyong immediately demands, “You’re not going to hurt me.”

Jaehyun groans and Taeyong’s body clenches around the two fingers he’d slipped so easily inside, and Taeyong arches up when Jaehyun crooks his fingers, clutching onto his arms tightly.

Taeyong knows how badly Jaehyun wants to take his time, to lay him out and work his way down Taeyong’s body, lingering at every facet, but Jaehyun feels his impatience and stretches him quickly, scissoring his fingers apart, thrusting them in shallowly until Taeyong grabs his forearm with a shaky hand and tells him to stop and just do it already.

Jaehyun pulls his fingers out, but grabs Taeyong’s hips, pulling the smaller boy up the bed and closer to him. Taeyong yelps in surprise, and Jaehyun leans down, pressing fluttery kisses that make Taeyong flush with embarrassment all over his cheeks and neck.

“You’re mine,” Jaehyun whispers into the nape of his neck, “You’re mine, you’re mine for tonight.”

“Please,” Taeyong cries out when Jaehyun’s hands dig into his hips hard, “Please, I need it.” He’s half lost to the heat again, and he thinks he’s going to lose his mind by the time Jaehyun gets around to actually fucking him.

“Say it,” Jaehyun growls with such conviction that Taeyong shudders, the Alpha’s low voice sending a sharp spark of heat through his body. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” Taeyong immediately repeats, “I’m all yours Jaehyunnie, please,” he claws frantically at Jaehyun’s back, and Jaehyun arches, half in pain and half in pleasure.

Jaehyun presses into him slowly, inch by inch, and Taeyong bites his lip hard to keep from crying out, clinging onto him as tight as he can, his hands on the younger’s biceps, legs wrapped around his waist. It’s so _good,_ the feeling of being stretched open chasing away the pain of the heat, punching the air from his lungs, and the tears in his eyes overspill.

Jaehyun fucks him with slow, calculated thrusts that make Taeyong cry out each time, his thighs shaking where they’re wrapped around Jaehyun’s waist. An inimitable pleasure is building inside him, and Taeyong holds onto Jaehyun tight, burying his face in the younger’s neck, sucking the sweat-salty skin between his lips.

Jaehyun snaps his hips up into him, pushing his dick deeper, and Taeyong cries out this time, can’t keep the noises in anymore. Jaehyun groans, “Say my name,” and Taeyong whimpers, “Jaehyunnie, Jaehyun you feel so good, fuck, you’re so-“

He’s never been this oversensitive before, Jaehyun’s cock hitting something inside him that has his stomach aching in pleasure, and it builds to a fever pitch all too quickly, his whole body tightening, fingers scrabbling for purchase against the smooth plane of Jaehyun’s back.

Taeyong comes so hard that he loses himself in it for a minute, mind blanking on anything that isn’t him and Jaehyun, that isn’t the bond pulling them closer together.

It takes Jaehyun almost no time to follow, moaning helplessly against Taeyong’s mouth, spilling inside him, and Taeyong’s body arches at the feeling, his thighs squeezing together.

Taeyong’s whole body is wrung out with exhaustion, the heat leeching his energy, and he barely has the energy to reach up, tangle a hand through Jaehyun’s hair and pull him down into a kiss that has both of them breathless again.

They take time to recharge, Taeyong clinging onto Jaehyun the whole time, and then Jaehyun fucks him again, this time on his hands and knees, and Taeyong cries so hard from how good it feels that Jaehyun stops, panicked until Taeyong pulls him closer and demands he continue.

Between rounds, they doze, both too tired to manage anything except quiet conversation consisting mostly of Taeyong worrying about the state of Jaehyun’s sheets and Jaehyun reassuring him, stroking thin fingers through his sweaty hair.

Finally, when Taeyong’s heat breaks, tangled together, exhausted, they fall asleep.

-

The morning sun catches Taeyong right in the face, the light filtering orange through his eyelids. He turns his face away from it, but his sleep is already ruined.

The events of the previous day come back to him in segments, and Taeyong feels anxiety stream into his veins, unsure of where they stand after the enormity of their revelations. They have a lot of explaining to do.

“You’re thinking.” Jaehyun’s voice says quietly, “I can feel it from here.”

Taeyong opens his eyes, squinting in the morning light. He looks over, finds Jaehyun’s eyes still shut. The sunlight is splayed across his face as well, but unlike him, Jaehyun makes no move to turn away from it.

“You’re happy.” Taeyong observes. He can feel it thrumming inside Jaehyun.

Jaehyun shifts then, rolling closer to Taeyong until they’re face to face. His eyes open slowly, and Taeyong’s breath hitches. At moments like this, he can fully realize how beautiful Jaehyun is.

Jaehyun kisses him languidly, hands creeping up Taeyong’s hips to catch on his ribs. Taeyong quivers under his warm palms, arches up into the touch when they travel back down and settle on his waist, pressing them tightly together. “Hey,” Jaehyun murmurs, his voice still wrecked from sleep and the night before.

“Hi,” Taeyong whispers back, afraid that if he speaks too loudly he’ll ruin the moment.

They’re pressed chest to chest, thigh to thigh, noses nearly touching. Taeyong reaches up and traces Jaehyun’s eyelid with his thumb, feeling the brush of his eyelashes against the pad of his finger. Jaehyun’s lips curl into a slow smile, and Taeyong drags his finger down to dip into the hollow of his dimple.

“You’re cute,” Jaehyun mumbles, blinking sleepily in the golden morning sun. Taeyong presses the rest of his fingers to Jaehyun’s cheek, pulls his face forward, and kisses him again, this time openmouthed and slow, tongue against tongue. Jaehyun pulls away first, leaving a lingering kiss to Taeyong’s lower lip. “How do you feel?”

Taeyong considers this. Physically? Strung out, sore, and fatigued. Emotionally, though. He hasn’t felt this full in his entire life, full of warmth and light and wonder and finally, where he can see it in plain sight, love.

He knows Jaehyun can feel all those things, because the same feelings are echoed inside him, deep down where it’s only them, and only they matter.

Taeyong settles on a simple, “Good. Better than I’ve ever been.” And he pulls Jaehyun closer again, kisses him full on the mouth.

"Are you crying?" Taeyong asks incredulously, reaching up to catch one of the tears and rub it cautiously between his fingers. "Jae, why are you _crying_?"

Jaehyun sniffles, his lips pulling into a wide grin. "I've been in love with you since I was eight years old," he says simply, threading their fingers together carefully in the space between them.

Taeyong feels the inherent pull stir in the pit of his stomach, coaxing him closer to Jaehyun's quaking shoulders and flushed cheeks. He carefully winds his free hand into the Alpha's hair, the strands silky against his palm. "Don't cry, stupid." He murmurs softly, "I'm right here, aren't I?"

At some point in his life, Taeyong would have pulled away, cruel and drawn back into his shell. He might have taunted, "No Alpha cries like this," just to watch Jaehyun's expression fall, but now Taeyong's fingers itch to comfort, to kiss Jaehyun's tears away and hug him fiercely until everything is okay. “I love you,” he whispers instead, and the words are soft and incredulous and fragile, like they’ll blow away in the wind.

Jaehyun presses him into the bed again, whispers, “Say it again,” rising up so he can find Taeyong’s eyes. Taeyong lets his thighs part to make room for him.

“I love you,” he says again, this time with a blush reddening his cheeks. “Don’t make me say it again, it’s embarrassing when you stare at me like that.”

Jaehyun’s hands are on either side of Taeyong’s head, caging him in against the mattress. “I’m going to stare at you like this for the rest of my life,” He whispers, “I can’t help it anymore.”

Taeyong presses his lips together, embarrassment rearing its head inside him, but then Jaehyun says gently, “Look at me.”

Taeyong forces himself to meet the Alpha’s eyes, and finds them as dark as ever, shining with some profound emotion that echoes in Taeyong’s stomach. It’s a feeling of acceptance, of belonging. Taeyong has never felt anything quite like it.

“If you’re too embarrassed to say it, I’ll say it for you.” Jaehyun says with a smile that makes Taeyong’s stomach flutter, “I love you. I _have_ loved you, since the first day.”

Jaehyun leans in, and Taeyong unconsciously tilts his face up to meet him half way, and their lips press together, and Jaehyun kisses him, until the entirety of the world fades into nonexistence besides the softness of his lips, the gentle brush of his fingers against Taeyong’s sides, and in their chests, where the thousands of golden strings that weave their lives together sing and hum with rightness, they’re connected by the single most powerful thing that has ever bound them together; love.


	9. Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellllooo to everyone who's stuck by me while i wrote this <3 thank you so much for all the support?? im honestly a little shook haha but i've been wanting to write nct fics for over 2 years and i finally found the courage to write and post this year, so again, thank you so much!! This last chapter is basically tying together some loose ends and an epilogue. I hope you'll enjoy it and anticipate more jaeyong and in general nct fics from me

Jaehyun’s always been the one who’s head over heels.

And for this reason, when Jaehyun sits down across from him at their kitchen table and folds his hands in his lap, looking at Taeyong with cool, serious eyes, it takes him by surprise.

For a minute, he’s not sure if he understands what the younger boy’s just said.

“What do you mean?” Taeyong asks, his hands wrapped around the mug of tea in front of him. It’s so hot, the skin of his palms tingle, but it’s not an unpleasant feeling.

Jaehyun shifts back in his chair, mouth twisting in contemplation. “I said, maybe we should take things slowly.”

They’ve spent the past couple weeks wrapped up in each other, pushing each other against every possible surface to press kisses to the other’s mouth, dragging themselves into bed every chance they get. Even in Taeyong’s eyes, they’re beginning to get a bit much.

“I don’t disagree,” Taeyong murmurs thoughtfully. “But why now? Why when we’ve already done everything there is to do?” He takes a sip of tea, smiling when he realizes it’s exactly how he likes it. Jaehyun’s picked up on it, after living with him for months.

“I want both of us to be sure. I don’t want to make the same mistakes over and over again. We should know better by now.” Jaehyun’s eyebrows furrow. “We’re almost in our twenties. There’s plenty of other mistakes to make. I want us to not regret anything else we do together. I want you to like me for… for _me_ , not because of circumstance, or because you feel like there’s no other option.”

Taeyong knows there are other options. He’d been with other people, dated around, even thought about bringing people over, but no one’s ever made him feel as right as Jaehyun.

But he wants to do things right this time. He’s sure about it, and he wants Jaehyun to be, too.

He takes a deep breath through his nose, releases it through his mouth. “Okay. Let’s take it slow.”

The smile Jaehyun shoots him is bright with relief, and Taeyong thinks that things are finally starting to work out for them.

-

Takings things slow turns out to be more complicated than either of them had anticipated.

In words, it had seemed fairly simple. In action, it proves to be much more difficult, especially when Johnny and Ten invite them over one night, and Ten’s first reaction after opening the door is, “You guys smell like each other. Spill it before I have to interrogate you.”

Behind him, Dongyoung slinks up to the door, takes one look at them, and his eyes widen dramatically. “Tell me who instigated so I can go collect my money.”

Ten hisses, “Shut _up_ , they’re not supposed to know about that!” and slaps Dongyoung’s arm gently.

Taeyong’s sure his face is bright red by now, and when he dares a glance towards Jaehyun, he finds the Alpha in the same way, flushed from the tips of his ears to the collar of his shirt.

“Tell me you didn’t have a running bet,” Taeyong groans, pushing past the bickering pair into the apartment.

“It’s a _joke_ ,” Ten drawls, rolling his eyes. “As if we would ever.”

(Although, a minute later, Taeil walks in and exclaims, “I _told_ you so, Kim Dongyoung! How much do you owe me?” and Taeyong is so close to just getting up and walking home until Ten says placatingly, “We made it years ago, okay? It’s really more of a joke than anything else.”)

Surprisingly, when Johnny walks out of the kitchen, he just waves at them before turning to Ten and asking him where he’d put the wine.

Taeyong throws a sharp look at Jaehyun, who blushes even deeper and shrugs helplessly.

“He tells me everything, remember?” Johnny grins, winking in Taeyong’s direction. He ducks, as if to avoid it.

“You _knew_?” Ten and Dongyoung screech at once, and Ten shrieks, “You didn’t even tell me? And _you!”_

Ten turns to Taeyong with murder in his eyes. “Does friendship mean nothing to you?”

Taeyong turns to Johnny, eyes wide and pleasing, and Johnny lays a hand on Ten’s shoulder, drags him back into the kitchen to help him finish cooking.

For a second, there’s silence, Taeyong and Jaehyun to mortified to even look at each other. Then, Taeil giggles nervously and mumbles quietly to himself, “Was the bet a secret?”

-

Unfortunately, taking it slow also means that at the end of the night, when they stumble home, still tipsy and giggling, after exchanging kisses in the back of the cab, they have to part ways to their respective bedrooms.

Taeyong hesitates in front of his door for a minute, half of him filled with the urge to trail after Jaehyun and crawl into bed with him, but then Jaehyun’s bedroom door closes, and he takes a deep breath to clear his head, which is still buzzing from the wine, and enters his empty room alone.

Even in bed, he can feel Jaehyun’s thrumming reluctance on the other size of the wall. He’s brimming with desire so powerful that he feels like there’s something physical pushing him towards Jaehyun’s room, and it takes all his willpower to stay in bed, hands clenched tightly in his blankets until Jaehyun falls asleep and the urge fades.

-

It happens slowly, but inch by inch, they creep towards falling back together. The intense heat in Taeyong’s stomach mellows into sweet warmth, the lust dissolving into a deeper yearning, and still, they take their time.

They spend a lot of time with each other and away from each other, testing the limits of their bond. Some days, Taeyong wants nothing more than to pull Jaehyun into his room and kiss him silly, than to tear off all his clothes and climb into his lap.

Likewise, there are days where Jaehyun’s hands linger around his waist for too long, held back only by impeccable self restraint, and they find themselves giggling nervously, cautiously retreating to their own sides of the couch before it can get too heated.

Quite frankly, Taeyong is _tired_. He wants Jaehyun for himself, but he figures after making the younger boy wait so long, the least he can do is wait out this short time.

They also spend days doing the most mundane things, cuddling on the couch on their days off, watching stupid anime and cleaning the house together, taking trips to the coffeeshop down the street, going out to lunch with friends, and Taeyong falls into the habit of ordinariness easily.

It’s not until Ten shakes his head in mock pity after he sends Jaehyun to the corner store to pick up some drinks when he’s visiting one day, and he says, “You guys act like you’re middle aged and have three kids. What happened to you?” that Taeyong realizes just how mundane they’ve really become.

“It’s comfortable,” he tries to reason, “This way, we’re not doing anything to accidentally hurt each other.”

Ten takes his hands, gripping them tightly. “Taeyong, you know I love you,” he begins, and waits until Taeyong nods to say in a deadpan, “You’re both idiots.”

Taeyong wrenches his hands away. “You don’t understand. I can’t just rush into things again. What if I do something and we both realize this wasn’t the right thing to do?”

Ten shakes his head. “Are you going to keep living your life walking on eggshells, then? Are you going to avoid hurting each other’s feelings until everything’s all bottled up and it makes a rift between you? That’s not living, honey. That’s not how relationships work.”

Taeyong knows how overly cautious they’ve been with each other, but it’s only with their own best intentions in mind. After everything that’s happened to them, it’s only natural they be careful.

“I don’t want to hurt him.” Taeyong mumbles, turning away.

Ten wraps him up in a hug that makes his chest swell in affection, carding his hands through Taeyong’s hair. “Don’t be afraid, okay? It’s Jaehyunnie, for god’s sake. You know how long he’s waited for this. You know you’re not going to do anything. The fact that you admit you don’t want to hurt him tells me that you care, and that’s enough.”

When Ten says it out loud, it all sounds so reasonable, but Jaehyun’s vulnerability is still fresh in his mind, his trust still fragile. Taeyong wants to build this relationship out of the utmost care.

Jaehyun gets back then, and Ten pushes Taeyong away so quickly that he’s left reeling. “Beer,” Ten cheers, running over to grab the plastic bags from Jaehyun’s hands, “The only reason I come around here anymore.”

“I knew you were just friends with me for my taste in alcohol,” Jaehyun pouts, but hands them over willingly. He undoes the buttons of his coat and leaves it on the back of one of their chairs, and Taeyong feels his fingers itch with the urge to go put it away.

He winds up getting up, grabs the coat and undoes Jaehyun’s scarf for him, unwrapping it and kissing him chastely before going to hang them up. Ten shakes his head, saying quietly to himself, “Love is truly the most disgusting thing.”

“Now you know how we feel every time you sit in Johnny’s lap even though there are empty seats.” Taeyong finishes hanging up the coat and looks over at Jaehyun, who’s flopped down on the sofa next to Ten now. He looks good, the fabric of his black sweater clinging to him whenever he moves, and it makes Taeyong’s body warm up.

“Speaking of Johnny,” Taeyong adds, eyeing Ten meaningfully, “Aren’t you late? I thought you said he was taking you out tonight.”

Ten blinks once in confusion, and then realization takes over his face. “Right,” he cries immediately standing up, “I have to go. How could I forget?”

Jaehyun stares curiously as Ten gathers his belongings and leaves in a rush, grabbing the plastic bag of beer (“Hey,” Jaehyun says halfheartedly, but makes no effort to stop him from taking the drinks) and slams the door shut behind him.

Taeyong hesitates by the door much longer than necessary.

Jaehyun’s still sitting on the couch, but his head’s tipped back against the headrest, his eyes shut. Taeyong strides forward before he can lose the courage Ten’s stirred up inside him.

He slides onto Jaehyun’s lap, and the younger boy jerks under him, eyes opening wide.

“Welcome home,” Taeyong says, way too late. He leans in and leaves a quick kiss against the soft curve of Jaehyun’s cheek.

Jaehyun bites his lip. “What are you doing?” he asks, carefully pressing his hands to Taeyong’s thighs.

Taeyong presses their foreheads together, and for a second, they’re left staring at each other, breath shallow between them. “I want to tell you something,” he whispers, eyes searching Jaehyun’s. “Are you listening?”

“Always,” Jaehyun breathes.

Grabbing onto Jaehyun’s shoulders for balance, Taeyong pulls him even closer until their lips brush each other’s with every word. “I’m never going to regret this, so I don’t want you to treat me like I’m made of glass or about to break at any second. I meant it when I said I love you. I want you fully, and that means no more of this… this weirdness. I want you for you, and not just the version of you that you like to show everyone, acting like some kind of prince. It’s okay not to be so kind and understanding sometimes. It’s okay to get mad at me, or to get annoyed. I like all those parts of you, so let me see them.”

Jaehyun’s trembling under him, so finely that he’d miss it if not for how closely they’re pressed together. “I don’t want to make you upset.”

“Getting upset is part of the process, Jae,” Taeyong murmurs back, pressing their lips together in a careful kiss, “We can’t sort through things if we never confront them. This time, we’ll do it together so we can both work on it instead of letting it fester.”

Jaehyun stares at him for another beat, and then exhales, his shoulders slumping. “You’re right.” He admits finally, “I’m sorry I was so hesitant. I want you fully too. No more restraint”

“Vices and virtues,” Taeyong promises, kissing him again.

Jaehyun’s mouth twists against his. “Vices and virtues,” he echoes, arms snaking up Taeyong’s thighs to wrap around his waist.

Taeyong feels Jaehyun grip him tighter, and then he’s being jostled, Jaehyun straightening up as he stands. Taeyong yelps in surprise, clinging on tightly. “What are you doing?” he asks, fingers twisting in Jaehyun’s sweater.

“Giving you my unrestrained self,” Jaehyun grins, not stumbling once under Taeyong’s weight.

“Thank god,” Taeyong cries in relief, “I was starting to think you didn’t think I was hot anymore.”

“You’ll always be hot to me,” Jaehyun giggles, kicking at the door behind them to make it swing closed. This time they’re in his room instead of Taeyong’s. Jaehyun presses a line of warm kisses up the side of Taeyong’s neck, and repeats firmly, “Always.”

Taeyong tangles his fingers through his hair, pulls him closer, and breathes into his mouth, “You’re mine now.”

Jaehyun pulls away from his neck, eyes shining with the promise of a bright future. He says, “I’ve been yours since the beginning.”

* * *

Epilogue: Twenty Five

“You know, I never thought I’d see a day where Taeyong looks better than me.” Ten says, but there’s an impossibly wide grin on his face.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Taeyong asks dryly. He glances at the mirror, though, just to make sure he’s still as meticulously made up as he’d been left by the stylist. His suit’s simple, a black jacket over a similarly dark dress shirt. 

“It’s as close as I’m going to get without grossly sobbing all over you, so let’s consider it a compliment.”

“I told you he’d cry,” Yuta grins good naturedly, swinging an arm around Taeil, who’s wiping at his eyes. “I bet the only one who’s going to cry more than him is Taeyong.”

“Shut up,” Taeyong whines good naturedly, “If I cry the pictures will all end up being of my blotchy face.”

“Not even your crying face could make you less handsome,” Taeil promises through a sniffle. He reaches out, straightens Taeyong’s tie with a careful hand.

Taeyong opens his mouth, finds himself unable to speak through the emotion that rises in his throat. He clears his throat, blinking rapidly to clear his misty eyes, and tries again. “Thank you, guys,” he murmurs, voice trembling over the words. “For always staying with me when I need you. For everything.”

Ten’s lips are trembling again, and even Yuta ducks his face away, wiping his eyes roughly before turning back to him. “You know we love you,” he mumbles, “So don’t be dumb. We’ll always be there for you.”

Ten wraps him up in an embrace that Yuta and Taeil join in on, and Taeyong spends a minute under their arms trying to calm his rapid heartbeat. It’s not until a light knock on the door interrupts them that they break apart.

“It’s time to get started,” Dongyoung says softly, cracking the door open a little. “Everyone’s waiting.”

Yuta squeezes Taeyong’s hand one more time, and lets him go, pushing him gently towards the door. “Go on,” he whispers, “We’ll be right behind you.”

Taeyong takes one last deep breath to quiet his nerves and follows Dongyoung out.

He nearly stumbles twice, panic settling into his bones, but each time, someone catches him, helps him find his balance, and Taeyong knows he’s going to be fine. “You’re okay,” Ten whispers gently, fingers grasping his elbow as he pulls him straight.

Finally, he walks past the threshold of the door into the ceremony hall, and Johnny’s there in place of his father, who’d passed the year before. Johnny gives him a gentle smile, eyes twinkling when they find Ten over his shoulder, and then he reaches out for Taeyong’s hand.

It feels only right that they do this themselves. Taeyong’s parents haven’t been involved in his life in so long, and his sister and niece sitting beside his mother in the audience is enough blood for his side. He has another family, in the form of their friends.

Dongyoung hands him off to Johnny, and Johnny murmurs, “He’s been waiting for you.”

Taeyong dips his head in a nod. “I’ve been waiting too,” he whispers back. Perhaps for most of his life, he hadn't realized exactly what it had been that he'd been waiting for, but now he's sure of himself, and of Jaehyun.

Jaehyun sits on the platform, the set of his spine rigid, his handsome face pale with nerves. He’s wearing a suit identical to Taeyong, but a shade lighter in grey. When he glances up through his eyelashes, his expression brightens, and Taeyong clearly feels every shimmering golden thread between them, thrumming with energy and love.

He looks back at his friends, scattered amongst the audience, then to Ten’s eyes filled with tears, Taeil’s with pride, and then finally turns to look forward, into Jaehyun’s dark eyes, and faces the future.

Sometimes, Taeyong realizes, the universe knows what is best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((btw if you have any questions/loose ends u want to ask me about head over to my cc [here](https://curiouscat.me/slimequeen) ))

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/_johnten)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [To The Beat Of Your Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17078099) by [SlimeQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlimeQueen/pseuds/SlimeQueen)




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